diff options
Diffstat (limited to '36737.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 36737.txt | 3662 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 3662 deletions
diff --git a/36737.txt b/36737.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bfe130e..0000000 --- a/36737.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3662 +0,0 @@ - The Book of the Duke of True Lovers - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: The Book of the Duke of True Lovers - -Author: Christine de Pisan - -Release Date: July 14, 2011 [EBook #36737] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE -LOVERS *** - - - - -Produced by Katherine Ward, Bryan Ness, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. - -This file was produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries. - - - THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS - - - - NOW FIRST TRANSLATED FROM THE MIDDLE FRENCH OF CHRISTINE DE - PISAN WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ALICE KEMP-WELCH. THE BALLADS - RENDERED INTO THE ORIGINAL METRES BY LAURENCE BINYON & ERIC R. - D. MACLAGAN - - - THE MEDIEVAL LIBRARY UNDER - THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF - SIR ISRAEL GOLLANCZ, Litt. D., F.B.A. - - - - -[Illustration: _The Book Of The Duke Of True Lovers Now First Translated -From the Middle French of Christine de Pisan, by Alice Kemp-Welch. -Chatto and Windus. London MCMVIII._] - - The title on the reverse of this page, engraved upon the wood, - was designed by Miss _Blanche C. Hunter_, and embodies the only - authentic portrait of _Christine De Pisan_, engaged in writing, - from the MS. now in the Bibliotheque Royale, Brussels. - -[Illustration: _Ci commence le liure du duc des vrays amans._] - - - NEW YORK - OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS - AMERICAN BRANCH - - _All Rights reserved_ - - Printed in England at _The Ballantyne Press_ - Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd. - _Colchester, London & Eton_ - - - - - - -TRANSLATOR'S NOTE - - -The only two known MSS., both early fifteenth century French, of the -love-story here rendered into English prose, are the one in the -Bibliotheque Nationale (836), and that in the British Museum (Harley, -4431). - -The MS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale forms one of the treasures of the -famous collection of MSS. made by Jean, Duc de Berry, the Mecaenas of -illuminated MSS. At his death it passed into the possession of his -daughter Marie, who, by marriage, had become Duchesse de Bourbon. When, -in the reign of Francois I., the Connetable de Bourbon, to whom it had -descended, was disgraced, the king seized his books and MSS., and -carried them off to Fontainebleau, well pleased to add by any means, -righteous or unrighteous, to the treasures of the royal library. Here -this MS. and others remained until the reign of Charles IX., when they -were removed to Paris, and placed in the Bibliotheque du Roi, now the -world-famous Bibliotheque Nationale. - -The MS. in the British Museum has also had an interesting and chequered -career. It was originally presented by Christine de Pisan to Isabelle of -Bavaria, the queen of Charles VI. of France, whose books and MSS. were, -in 1425, acquired by John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France. It is more -than probable that this MS. was amongst these and was brought to -England, for the various signatures on the enclosing parchment would -certainly seem to indicate that this was the case. Late in the fifteenth -century the MS. was sold to one of the most celebrated bibliophiles of -the day, Louis of Bruges. After this, there is a blank in its history, -until, in the seventeenth century, we find it once more in England, in -the possession of Henry, Duke of Newcastle, whose grand-daughter married -Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, the founder of the splendid collection of -MSS. and books purchased in 1754 for the British Museum, and now known -as the Harleian Collection. - -The writer of the story, Christine de Pisan, was one of the world's many -famous women, and one who, by her life and work, created an ideal for -womankind--that of sweetness and strength. Born in Venice in 1363, she -was, when five years of age, taken by her mother to Paris, to join her -father, Thomas de Pisan, who had been summoned thither by the king, -Charles V., to serve as his astrologer, in which service he remained -until the king's death. The Court of Charles V. was, in spite of the -constant warfare that troubled his kingdom, at once most cultured and -refined, and it was in such surroundings that Christine was brought up. -At the age of fifteen she was married to the king's notary and -secretary, Etienne de Castel, a gentleman of Picardy, who, however, died -some ten years later, leaving her with three children to provide for. -Like many another, she turned to letters as both a material and a mental -support. She wrote not only purely lyrical poetry, of extraordinary -variety and abundance considering that the subject is almost invariably -the joys and sorrows of love, sometimes, as she tells us, expressing her -own sentiments, sometimes those of others at whose request she wrote, -but she also wrote sacred and scientific poems, and moral and political -prose works, and a kind of romantic fiction, of which the story of The -Duke of True Lovers is an example, although it is quite possible, and -indeed probable, that it has some historic basis. - -Christine begins her story by saying that it had been confided to her by -a young prince who did not wish his name to be divulged, and who desired -only to be known as The Duke of True Lovers. It has been suggested, with -much likelihood, that this is the love story of Jean, Duc de Bourbon, -and Marie, Duchesse de Berry, who has already been alluded to as the -daughter of the famous Jean, Duc de Berry, and the inheritor of his MSS. -This Marie had been married, when quite a child, to Louis III. de -Chatillon, Comte de Dunois, and afterwards to Philippe d'Artois, Comte -d'Eu, Constable of France, whose wife she was at the time when the -incidents which have been woven into this story are supposed to have -taken place. Philippe d'Artois only survived the marriage three or four -years, and after three years of widowhood, the already much-married -Marie wedded (1400) our hero, Jean, Duc de Bourbon. - -The principal facts which seem to afford strong evidence in favour of -connecting this love story with the two princely houses of Bourbon and -Berry are (1) that the MS. originally formed part of the library of the -Duc de Berry, and subsequently passed on marriage to that of the Duc de -Bourbon; (2) that although Christine's MSS. generally were so copied and -multiplied during her lifetime that they number even now at least two -hundred, there is only one other copy--the one already referred to as -being in the British Museum--known of this particular MS., this alone -seeming to indicate that its contents were regarded as of a private -family nature; and (3) that to add to the mystery, and to ensure -secrecy, there is no definite ending to the romance. The story merely -tells us that the ducal lover, harassed by mischief-makers, and unable -to bear the pain of a separation in his own country which her position -and his own gallantry alike demanded, departs with the army for an -expedition in Spain. For ten years the lovers meet from time to time -during the intervals between journeying and war, and further solace each -other with short love-poems, expressive of pensive longing, and with -these the story ends vaguely. But if we accept the story as being -founded on real life, history supplies a more definite ending. As -already stated, soon after the death of Marie's second husband, -Philippe, the lovers are married, and spend a few happy years in their -castle at Moulins, the chief town of the Duke's domains, surrounded by -and enjoying rare works of art and literature, their happiness only -marred by the unsettled state of France, and by consequent calls on the -Duke to fight for his country. It was on one of such occasions--the -memorable and decisive battle of Agincourt (1415)--that the Duke was -made prisoner, and taken to London, where he died in captivity, and -Marie, his Duchess, was left to mourn, and this time in real sorrow. - -Thus ends the story, which Christine has told with her wonderful gift as -painter-poet. Besides making the lovers, and that noxious growth of -civilisation, the inevitable scandal-monger, intensely living through -her womanly sympathy and psychological insight, and introducing, in the -form of a letter, a most comprehensive and remarkable treatise on -feminine morality, the dangers of illicit love, and the satisfaction of -simple wifely duty, she takes us in imagination to a royal castle of the -fifteenth century. There we seem to live the daily life of its courtly -circle, and, through the vivid description of the sumptuous pageant, to -take part in the three days' tournament, and in the merry revels which -bring each day to a close. As we read, we realise the extraordinary -power of this woman, who seems in description to use the exact and -detailed brush of a Meissonier, whilst in her outlook on life she -possesses the broader and freer touch of a Puvis de Chavannes. Truly is -it a master-mind indeed which can see life largely, and see it well! - -Much might be written about the interesting and talented Christine, but -we must bid her farewell now and here. Still she must ever be held in -remembrance for her untiring championship of two things very near to her -heart--a patriotic love for the land of her adoption, and an ardent -devotion to the cause of womankind. She had the happiness before her -death, which occurred about 1430 in the Convent of Poissy, near Paris, -to which she had retired, of seeing France aroused to patriotism, and -that, too, by a woman--Joan of Arc. - - - - -THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS - - -Here begins the Book of The Duke of True Lovers - -Although I might have no desire or intent at the present time to -discourse of love, since all my mind is occupied with other matter the -which is more pleasing to me, I am willing, for the sake of others, now -to commence a wondrous story, for to this I am besought by one who, -instead of making request, has the right to give command to one even -more worthy than I. And this is a lord whom it behoves one duly to obey, -and who of his grace has desired me to make known the trouble which, -whether he has been wise, or whether he has been foolish, he has, during -many winters and summers, long been in by reason of love to the which -his heart is still in bondage. But he would not that I should make known -his name. It contents him who tells this story for their sake, to be -called the Duke of True Lovers. And it is his pleasure that I recount, -even as he has told them unto me, the grievous distresses, the joys, and -the strange adventures, through the which, during many bygone years, he -has passed. And he would that to this rehearsal I should at the same -time add other matter, the which I grant him, for I know him to be of -such disposition, and of such good sense, that his humility will take in -good part the imperfection of my little poem, and, with his consent, I -will relate on his behalf the facts even as he has set them forth. - - - - -THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS - - -I was a mere lad when I first experienced a great desire to become a -lover. And for that I heard it maintained that a lover is courteous -above other folk, and better esteemed amongst men, I desired to be one. -To this end I resorted thither where I might choose a lady whom I might -serve, but ne'ertheless I was longwhile without one, for, on my soul, I -had not the understanding to make choice, and although I had enough of -leisure, I ne'ertheless understood not how to discover the way to this. -And because of my desire, I frequented much fair company of dames and -maidens, and saw many very fair damsels, but youth still kept possession -of me, so that in nowise did I know how to determine whom to choose. -Thus I was longwhile happy, content with this gay and pleasing life. But -when the time dured too long for me, in this manner did I make sore -plaint to love:-- - - Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord, - And Venus, thou, Love's Lady and Goddess, - Since in love only is set my happiness, - Vouchsafe to turn my heart soon thitherward. - - Vouchsafe, that I be with right courage stored, - Soon to bring unto me my heart's mistress, - Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord. - - And may I choose, if thou the grace accord, - One that shall pardon me the simpleness - Of youth, and honour on my days impress; - Out of a great desire have I implored, - Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord. - -And because of the desire which I had in view, oft did I discourse thus -until that true love heard me, and gratified my longing. And I will -rehearse unto you in what manner love first took possession of my heart -and made it captive, and never after set it free. - -[Illustration: _"On a day for my diversion ... we mounted on to our -horses"_] - -On a day, for my diversion, with one of my kinsfolk and four others of -my gentlemen, we mounted on to our horses. A longing for the chase took -possession of me, and, to ensure success, I caused the huntsmen to take -greyhounds and ferrets. Then, without ado, we entered on a path the -which I had ofttimes followed, but not far had we gone when a wide -beaten track led us whither I knew there were many rabbits. And near by, -I assure you, there was a strong and very goodly castle, but its name I -will not make known. - -At that time there was come to this place a Princess who was held of -every one as so good and beautiful, and of so great worth, that she was -had in honour of all. In nowise did we know that she was there, since we -came thither by chance. Here and there, without the castle, her -attendants amused themselves, some singing, some casting the weight, and -others, afoot, exercising with the bar. And as they remained there, we -turned our steps toward them. Then they all turned them toward us, and -when they perceived us, and recognised who we were, the chief amongst -them at once rose up. And when they had saluted us, they tarried not, -but, as it seemed to me, by twos and by threes repaired them to their -mistress. And methinks they did not hide from her that we were come -there, for as soon as we were come quite nigh unto the castle, we saw a -goodly company of ladies coming forth to meet us. And these gave us -welcome with gracious bearing. - -And we straightway turned toward them, and saluted them on bended knee. -And there was amongst them both a lady and a maiden who were kinsfolk of -her who was mistress of them all. And without giving affront, and -without rebuke, I kissed the maiden with fair tresses, as well as the -lady. And my cousin and I escorted the maiden, who was high-born, and -the noble lady, and in suchwise entered the castle. - -And the Lady, of whom every one spake well, had already come forth from -out her chamber, and stood there with noble mien, neither proudly, nor -haughtily, but in such manner as befitted her noble estate and royal -person. And as soon as we saw her, we duly saluted her, and, in a little -space, she came forward, and took me with ungloved hand, and kissed me, -and said, "I knew not of your coming, fair cousin. You are right -welcome, but what brings you here now?" - -Then said my cousin, "Certes, my Lady, we set out for amusement, and -knew not that you were here. Chance brought us hither, but praised be -God who has so favoured us that we have found at your hands so warm a -welcome." - -And the good and gracious lady laughed at this, and made answer, "Then -let us go amuse ourselves." - -So we descended down into a green meadow, and then, accompanying us, she -went to a very fair place, and drew me to her right side to sit down -beside her. And without more ado, large cushions of gold and of silk -were brought to her, under the shade of a willow, where, beneath the -trees, the waters of a spring ran fair and clear along a straight -channel fashioned and cut with skill through the green and tender -herbage. - -And no longer did she remain standing, but she seated herself with me -beside her, and then the others withdrew them to a distance from us, and -sat them down, here and there, beside the stream. Then she began to -question me, for I confess that I knew not at that time how to converse -with her or with others, for I was still somewhat young. - -And she began her discourse by making enquiry of me concerning a journey -from the which I was newly come, and, in especial, of the demeanour and -the appearance of the ladies, and, further, in what manner the Court, -the which the King and Queen held, was ordered. And I made her answer -according to my knowledge. And I remember me that we discoursed together -there of many things. - -[Illustration: _"And now it is time that I tell how the grievous malady -began ... for love's sake."_] - -And now it is time that I tell of how the grievous malady began the -which has made me to suffer right cruelly for love's sake. Truly it is a -marvel to understand how it came to pass that love of her whom I had -ofttimes seen, but whom I had never before thought on, took possession -of my heart. It is like unto one who passes over the sea, exploring many -lands to discover that which he might find close at hand, but the which -he perceives not until another makes it known unto him. Thus in truth -did it befall me, for, by reason of my want of understanding, in nowise -did I perceive the grace of my precious lady until love put me in the -way, and I had but desired to see such an one in order to yield my heart -to her. For long had I seen her oft, but, until that day, no thought had -I given to her. Thus I had ready to my hand that which I went elsewhere -to seek. But, in order to allay my passion, love at length willed to -release my heart from this strife. And now, when this perfect one, who -has caused me sore trouble, spake to me, her speech and her gentle and -gracious bearing pleased me more than ever aforetime, and made me wholly -dumb. Intently did I observe her, and right well did I contemplate her -beauty, since she seemed to me to be more distinguished, and to have -much more of grace and sweetness, than I had ever before observed. - -Then love, the playful archer, who saw my silent demeanour, and that I -was inclined unto love, took the arrow with the which it is his wont to -surprise lovers, and bent his bow, and drew it silently. But I heeded it -not. The arrow of a tender glance, the which is so pleasing and so -powerful, pierced me to the heart. Then was I sore bewildered. Verily -did I think myself to be lost when I felt the loving blow, but my heart -yielded itself to the amorous wound. In nowise was the wound mortal, for -it came to pass that the sting pierced me again and again. - -Then her gentle, laughing eyes, all fraught with loving fetters, so -stirred my heart, that I knew not how to make answer unto her. Truly -must she have thought my look and my manner to be foolish, since I moved -neither hand nor foot, and I so ofttimes changed colour at her glance, -that it might have been thought that my heart trembled with fear. How -shall I set the matter forth briefly? If I longed to be made captive, -then in this I failed not. - -Thus ended the life of my early youth. How to live otherwise, true love -now taught me. In this manner was I made captive from that hour. - -Longwhiles did I remain there, and I discoursed in a simple manner, like -unto a child, and, without ceasing, I kindled the burning fire-brand in -my heart. When I gazed on her beauty, I was caught as is the moth in the -candle, or the bird in the lime, and no heed did I take of it. - -And when I had tarried in this place nigh unto the third of a summer's -day, my cousin no longer remained in meditation, but said to me, "Take -your leave now, for, on my soul, methinks you have detained my Lady too -long here, and it is the time to sup." - -Then the noble and courteous one, who is called fair and good, besought -me much to sup with her, but I excused me. For but a short while longer -did I linger there, and then I arose, and would have taken my leave, but -it behoved us first to take wine, and so we drank. And when we had -drunken and eaten, I besought her that of her grace it might please her -that I should escort her to her dwelling, but the fair one consented -not. So, without tarrying, I took leave of her and of them all. - -Then love, the more to pierce my tender heart, caused me of a sudden to -receive a loving glance from her, the which came to me like a tender -greeting as I left the place, for, whiles I was departing, I turned -towards her, and, as I turned me away, the tender, fervent look from her -fair, loving eyes, fell upon me in such wise that never, since love -lodged there, has it faded away. And thus I departed with love's arrow. - -And when we were without the walls, we straightway mounted on to our -horses, and made all haste to set forth because of the night, the which -was already come. And by the way, my cousin made great endeavour to be -merry, but as for me, certes I spake not a word, but kept silence, and -bowed my head in a very pensive way, for the burning and living flame -with the which the tender glance had pierced and wholly taken possession -of my heart, left me not, and I so thought without ceasing on the beauty -of the gentle countenance where I had left my heart in pledge, and on -her fair and faultless body and her winning eyes, that all came up -before me. Thus I rode forward in pensive mood. And my cousin conversed -much with me by the way, and spake with much good sense, but since I was -wrapped in thought, I listened not to him until he said to me, "Fair -Sir, what do you thus think on in silence, and what is the cause of -this? Have you not had great joy there from whence you come, that you -bear yourself so pensively? Certes, it seems to me, so help me God, that -whoso desires a lady, could not have one fairer and more perfect than, -without doubt, is the one from whom you but now come. What say you to -this? Do I not speak truly? Is she not courteous and kind? Have you ever -in your life seen a lady in every way more perfect? To my thinking, she -is beautiful to look on, and excels all others in discretion, in honour, -in grace, and in nobility, and, in fine, never on my soul have I seen -her like, save only the lady who is mistress of mine own heart, for her -pure heart displays such surpassing virtue that there is none other to -be compared to her, save only her of whom I have spoken, and this God -would allow." - -And when I heard another praised more than her whom I thought on, -although before I had held my peace, no longer for all the gold in the -world could I remain silent, and therefore, pondering deeply, I sighed -and said, "Certes, I will say what I think, if it be only that I believe -it certain that, if God would choose an earthly mistress and friend, -none other could he desire if he would possess the one in the world the -most beyond compare, and in pledge of this I offer my body in combat. If -you take not up this gage, then you love not this same lady of yours who -is without equal in the world, and once again do I avouch that all other -ladies are, to this one, only as are the small sparks from a candle to -the brightness of the stars." - -And when he heard me speak thus, he began to smile, and verily do I -believe that he perceived my heart to be already gone out to her. - -And then he went on in front, and we, riding in all haste, came in a -short space to the place where I dwelt, and the night had already closed -in. And at the time, my father was looking out into the court, and he -sternly made enquiry where I had been all the day long, and I, who had -made great haste for that I feared and dreaded his anger, saw him at a -window, and much did I wish that he had been elsewhere. Howsoever I -dismounted, and then, without waiting, I knelt to greet him. Then said -he, turning his head, "Whence come you, fair Sir? Is it the time to -return home when the night is already come? But all is well with him who -returns." - -And I said not a word to him, and he left me, and I departed to my -chamber. And there I supped, pensive and sad, albeit there were many -youths there who were at great pains to divert me, and who related many -tales to me, but know that without ceasing my thoughts were elsewhere, -for it ever seemed to me that I saw, face to face, her who knew not how -she had made captive my heart. And when the time to retire to rest was -come, I laid me down in a well-prepared and comfortable bed, but I -believe not that I slept one hour and a half, and if there was one thing -which disquieted me more than another, it was that I was fearful lest -perchance she for whom I felt such sweet, joyous longing, might not look -upon this as I desired, for, as it seemed to me, nowhere could I obtain -solace which could give me so much pleasure, and from the which my heart -could derive such happiness, and, in this mood, I pondered, and said:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Verily, Love, I have no language, none - Of thanksgiving sufficient for thy grace - That moved me unto love, and such an one - Gave me for mistress as doth all abase - Beside her, queen of beauty and of grace - And precious worth; O, when on her I muse, - Truly my speech with my thought keeps no pace. - Thanks be to thee, who mad'st me her to choose. - - Now all that I desired so dear is won, - Having a lady to serve all my days, - Who holds my heart in joy to think upon - Her beauty, and in every hour and place - Makes my heart high and glad, so to embrace - Her soul with mine, joy that I may not lose. - Mine was the choice, but thine shall be the praise. - Thanks be to thee who mad'st me her to choose. - - O now, Love, into whose dominion - I yield my heart, vouchsafe my service space - That to my lady I suffice alone, - Being all hers, and that her beauteous face - And her regard that doth all pain erase, - Bend pitying on me and not refuse - Her tender eyes; I ask no other grace. - Thanks be to thee, who mad'st me her to choose. - - Ah, God of Love, ere that I run my race, - Vouchsafe I may alone content her, whose - I am always, in good and evil case. - Thanks be to thee, who mad'st me her to choose. - -In such wise did I commune with myself, and as yet I felt not the fierce -onset of the ardent desire which assails lovers, and makes them to burn, -to grow pale, to pine away, and to fret. This was not yet come. Thus I -only bethought me at the time to consider how I might be blithe and gay, -and possess a very fine equipment and fair raiment, and give away very -freely and without stint, and behave so honourably that in all things I -might everywhere be praised of gentlefolk in such sort that my lady -might regard me with favour on account of my well-doing. Thus I desired -to perfect my conduct, and thereafter to abandon the childish ways which -until then had made me wayward, and to take heed that thoughtlessness -did not overtake me, and to learn how to have a care for that which is -worthy. - -All these thoughts had I at that time, and thus I sought how, in my -bearing and conduct, I might put all this into practice. So I much -changed my ways, and now all my endeavour was to think, and to say, and -to do, that which was in every way pleasing and gracious, and on no -account to do aught that was discourteous. - -And I was neither sad nor foolish, but was cheerful, happy, contented, -and prudent, and so as to become familiar with the ways of love, I took -pains to learn to sing and to dance, and also to give myself up to the -pursuit of arms, for it seemed to me that it was said truly that credit -of a surety results from the pursuit of love, of arms, and of valour. - -Then forthwith I so importuned my father and my mother, that I came by -that which I sought after, the which was that I might have gold and -silver to spend freely, and that in all ways I might be richly attired; -and then I chose a device and a motto, in the which was the name of my -lady in such form that none could recognise it; and I commanded chargers -for jousting, and caused a festival to be arranged in order to make -essay at the joust, and, as I have said, other things beside did I -purpose. - -So the festival was prepared, to the which many a noble lady was bidden, -but ere I had answer that my lady would come to it, I made request of -him to whom this was due, and who was distantly related to me; and he -most heartily gave consent to it, and gave me welcome to his castle. And -there I saw my lady at my leisure, but how wholly I loved her and held -her dear, I told not unto her, but my face, methinks, made it quite -manifest, for Love which, the more to arouse my passion, taught me its -devices, made me to be all silent, and to pale, and then to regain -colour, but the fair one held her peace concerning it, as if she -perceived it not, and so little did she take notice of it, that I -bethink me she in nowise perceived the cause of all that happened to me, -and that all came from love of the which she was the cause, and the one -from whom flashed the loving spark which pierced my heart which made no -complaint of it. Ne'ertheless I lived happily, and ofttimes did I see -her, and this it was that comforted my heart, the which rejoiced, and, -aside to myself, I thus addressed her whom I so loved:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - My lady, and my sovereign, flower most rare, - In whom honour and worth are glorified, - Fountain of all things wise, gracious, and fair; - Who art my way toward virtue, and the guide - That over all my goings dost preside; - Lady, to whom humbly is vowed my fate, - Serving in that sweet service at thy side, - All of my days to thee I dedicate. - - How else, since none could with thyself compare? - Thou Beauty filled with sweetness, O provide - Ensample kindling me to do and dare, - And bring my ship in honour's port to ride! - So sweet my joy, Lady, it cannot hide; - Therefore, in my simplicity elate, - Out of my heart and body have I cried; - All of my days to thee I dedicate. - - Most noble Duchess, surely the hours prepare - That time, when thou shalt well be certified - How my heart serves thee with its every prayer. - Then shall my life be brimmed and satisfied, - When thou its full devotion having tried - Know'st it all truth; O honour's path and gate! - Fame's flowering tree! O valour's starry guide! - All of my days to thee I dedicate. - - Princess, who dost in power and praise abide, - Early I learnt to love thee; and love, being great, - Lifts up my heart above all thought of pride, - All my days, all, to thee I dedicate. - -And now I must turn me again to the former matter. - -In all haste, a great and fair festival was prepared, where many folk -had much diversion. And proclamation was made of the jousts, at the -which whosoe'er would combat lustily might win jewels of great worth and -the prize, and that to this tournament there would come twenty knights -who would joust with all comers. - -And on the day appointed, the meeting was held in a fair meadow, where, -well placed at the end of a lake, was a castle the which had six high -towers. And in this meadow were set up large and spacious tents and -scaffolds, and pavilions in great number, and all was made ready for the -festival and the jousts. And without adding more of this, I tell you -that when the day named was come, my sweet lady arrived before -nightfall, and there met her a goodly company of noble folk, and, -certes, minstrels with drums, of the which there were more than three -pairs, and trumpets the which they blew so loudly that the hills and -valleys resounded. - -And know that I had great joy when I saw my goddess coming toward me, -and never could aught beside happen from the which I could derive such -joy. So I met her in the way with a very noble retinue, and I approached -her litter, and saluted her, as she did me, and then my fair lady said -to me, "You take great trouble, fair cousin, for it puts you to -inconvenience to come at such a time." - -Thus holding, with joyful countenance, much converse with my sweet and -dear lady, we came nigh unto the castle, and riding beside her litter -(and, certes, it seemed to me that I had for my service sufficient -recompense, since my great joy was doubled in that it appeared to me -that she then looked on me more tenderly than she had ever done afore), -we arrived at the castle, where we found awaiting her many fair ladies, -who kneeled before her in seemly manner. - -And in the courtyard she descended down from the litter, and was -received there with great rejoicing; and I forthwith escorted her -through the rooms to her tiring chamber. And all the house had been made -ready for her whom I thought on, and at whose dwelling I had sojourned. - -Then those whose duty it was brought wine and comfits, and the fair one -desired that I should partake of them with her. And after this we -withdrew, and retired elsewhere, so as to suffer her to have repose for -a while, and I straightway withdrew me elsewhere, and dressed and -attired me. - -And so as to dance in the German fashion, and to the end that naught -should be wanting to make the festival perfect, I had caused an hundred -rich liveries to be made according to my device, and I remember me that -the five-and-twenty of them the which the knights had on this occasion, -were of green velvet, and of cloth of gold broidered. But on the day -following the joust, the esquires and the gentlefolk, but not the -waiting-men, apparelled them, whatsoe'er it cost, in satin, broidered -with silver. - -And when that we were dressed, we appeared before my mistress. And there -we found a goodly assemblage of ladies and damsels of the country who -were already come to this festival. Then, without tarrying, I saluted my -lady and them all, and verily do I believe that I changed colour. -Ne'ertheless I said, "My Lady, it is time to sup." And straightway I -took her by the hand, and led her to the hall. Then each one descended -thither. The knights led the ladies, and the minstrels blew their -trumpets in such manner that everything re-echoed with the sound, and -the feast gave such pleasure, that it made a goodly sight to witness. - -And my lady seated herself on the large raised dais, and I think not -that it was displeasing to her that next to her I placed my mother, and -that, after her, four countesses, who entertained her well, seated them -close by, following down the hall each one according to her rank. And -the gentlewomen-in-waiting all sat them down in order of rank. And the -gentlemen seated them apart. And I hope and believe that in all respects -they were well served at the supper with meats and with wine. - -And, without making any excuse, I tell you that, when we had supped, -after taking comfits, we drank. Then the minstrels came forward, and -began to sound their horns in pleasing harmony. And, in a short space, -there began the dance, joyous and gay, and at it every one, because of -the happy festival, made merry. - -Then no longer did I tarry, but I went straightway to beseech my lady to -dance. And for a little she made excuse, but at last she gave consent. -So I took her by the hand, and led her to the dance, and then I escorted -her back to her seat, and misdoubt not that I was so carried away by -love of her, that I seemed to myself to be altogether overcome of -delight to be near her. I bethink me that I conceived this to be indeed -the celestial paradise, and desired naught better. And that which -pleased and rejoiced me the most, was her very sweet countenance, the -which, fearlessly and without frowardness, and with a gentle, tender -glance, looked upon me so sweetly and so kindly, that it seemed to me -that all I said and did was pleasing unto her. And I observed her very -intently, and then I cried for joy, for I seemed to possess the great -happiness which I desired. - -And it was right fitting that I should now approach her joyously. And so -we danced merrily a greater part of the night, and then the revel ended, -for it was time to make ready to retire to rest. Then I led her who was -as fair as amber to her chamber, and there many a courteous word was -spoken. And when she had gazed on me with her eyes the more to inflame -my passion, after partaking of comfits, I took leave of her and of all. -And we laid us down, here and there, on fair beds, with rich coverlets, -but all the night long I ceased not to think on her beauty, and I gave -utterance to these words, the which were in my heart:-- - - - -ROUNDEL - - - When you are come, joy is so all complete, - The heart leaps in my breast, beholding you, - O flower of beauty, O rose fresh and new, - Whose slave I am, whose servitude is sweet. - - Lady of gracious ways, whom all men greet - Most beautiful of women and most true, - When you are come, joy is so all complete. - - For you the happy festival shall meet - In glee; with none else have I need to do - For my delight; from you alone I drew - The life and joy that make my heart to beat, - When you are come, joy is so all complete. - -And like unto one who is consumed with love, I was impatient for the -morn, when I might see my mistress. So I arose from my bed as soon as I -saw that the time was fitting. And already was the house full of brave -and valiant knights, and esquires who even now were jousting with foils -and overthrew many an one. - -And when that I was ready, and mass was said, I went out, and because I -saw not my lady, I remained pensive. Then I went to meet her, and in a -short space I found her. For the nonce she was at mass, but after -hearing it, she hasted to make ready her attire. - -And when, after she was come forth from the chapel, she had attired her -fair form, the which of a truth was fair above all, I courteously made -her salutation. And she said tenderly, "Welcome, fair cousin. Take good -heed, for every one who would win a fair lady will appear at the joust." - -Then I smiled, and took courage to say, "I would make a request of you, -my Lady, and if you will grant it, right glad shall I be. It is that you -give me, if so it pleases you, a sleeve from off one of your bodices, -and a chaplet of periwinkle, to wear on my helm. Methinks it would not -please me more, or give me greater joy, if that you gave me a kingdom!" - -Then my lady pondered awhile, and at length she said, "Certes, fair -cousin, it would profit you more to have agreement with some other lady -for whom to adventure knightly and brave deeds. There are here many -ladies of high degree, but right certain it is that you cannot have a -lady here without jeopardy of your life if you would have of her, to -place on your helm, a token for the which it behoves you to go forth to -do deeds of chivalry. This you should receive from your mistress and -friend, and not from me, but I tell you that I am by no means willing to -refuse you your request, for even more would I do for you, though I -would not that any one should know of it." Then she drew a knife from -beneath her bed-hangings, and cut out the sleeve with the ermine from -one of her bodices of cloth of gold, and gave it to me. And for this I -gave her much thanks, and I likewise received from her the green -chaplet, wherefore I was happy and joyous, and said that I would bear it -on my helm, and would joust for love of her, but she must be willing to -take all in good part, for I had still to learn how to do this. - -Then my gracious lady was silent, without letting it be seen whether -this was pleasing unto her, or whether it gave her displeasure, and more -I dared not say. And I took my leave, for it was time to go. - -And the dinner was made ready early on that summer's day. We all dined -hastily in our chambers, and then repaired to the meadow where the -jousts were to be held, and dismounted before the gorgeous pavilions set -up around. The armour was there already, and the lances were got ready, -and the chargers were examined. And there you might see high saddles -with stirrups, and covered with devices, white, and red, and green, and -shields of many colours, and painted lances; and already there was a -great assemblage, in many rows, of the common folk, and much quarrelling -and uproar. - -And then I armed me, and made me ready, in my pavilion, but I tarried -there awhile, for it fell not to me to sally forth to begin the joust. -And there were twenty of us, apparelled alike, and all akin, and we were -knights prepared to joust with all comers. - - -[Illustration: _"My cousin, without long waiting, found his challenge -taken up"_] - -And my cousin, of whom I have before spoken, and who was very -courageous, was the first in the field. To this he was well accustomed, -and in such array did he enter the lists, that verily he looked like a -kinsman of the king. And he had his helm laced for to tourney in proper -manner; and painted lances, and banners, and much fair company were to -be seen there, and, as was fitting, many a player on the pipes was to be -heard, the which gave delight to all around. But of this we will say no -more. - -And I had caused many pavilions to be set up there for the service of -strangers, where they could lodge and refresh them. And you may be -assured that before the appointed hour there came thither many valiant -knights who failed us not at the joust. Others, who came to look on, -remained on their horses. - -And my cousin, without long waiting, found his challenge taken up by a -knight who touched his shield with the point of his lance, and he -avoided it not, so that if it should chance unto him to be overthrown in -the encounter, then must his blood be spilt. - -And it was our part to be the first to take the field, and the heralds -might be heard making proclamation in a loud voice of the name of this -one, who was known in England and in many lands. And then five of our -company sallied forth from the tents, and in nowise did they fail to -joust with all comers, and of a truth each one did his duty there so -exceeding well, that it is indeed right that the renown of their -achievements should endure. - -Then the general tourney began, and, in double file, and much increased -in numbers, our company sallied forth, and, as it behoved them, -tourneyed bravely. The trumpets sounded joyously, and the heralds made -proclamation, and the knights on noble battle horses, and according to -their several ranks, tourneyed lustily. And my lady, and many other -ladies, each one of whom was fair to look upon, twenty ladies with fair -tresses, nobly born, and adorned with chaplets, of whom the sovereign -and mistress was her who was in my thoughts, were seated apart, in order -of rank, on scaffolds richly bedecked. And, certes, they were all -apparelled in gowns of white silk, broidered with gold of special -design. They seemed like unto goddesses from heaven, or fairies -fashioned as faultlessly as one could desire. - -And you may know of a surety that many a glorious course was run that -day, and, certes, it must have been not a little pleasing to those who -watched such beings, since they made great endeavour to merit their -regard, and to overcome each other, the better to win their favour. Thus -you could here see many a thrust quickly parried, and how that one -overthrew another in the shock, and another aimed at the opening of the -visor, or else struck at shield or helm. One was unhelmed, or at once -cast to the ground, and another came who carried him off. Lances were -broken, and blows resounded, and the trumpets were sounded so loudly, -that God's thunder could not be heard. And hard blows were given on -either side. - -At length, with lance in rest, I sallied forth from my pavilion swifter -than a merlin, well planted in the stirrup, and armed all in white on a -charger, the which had a white caparison. Neither red, nor green, nor -any other colour whatsoever was there, save fine gold. And there came -forth with me all those of the place, and these meted out many a good -blow, and all were armed in white, and the lances the which our folk -bare were all of white. And I had caused the sleeve, the which my lady -had given me, to be right well disposed, and fastened firmly to my helm, -so that it could not be torn off. And I placed the green chaplet on my -helm, and set me forth with a goodly company, for exceeding great desire -had I to see my very sweet goddess. - -Then, all full of gladness, I arrived at the place of jousting. And I -turned my eyes to where she was, and met with her tender glance, and -thus I feared not any mischance. I passed before her, and then quickly -closed my helm and went to my place. And, in her presence, a noble count -forthwith brought me my lance, at the same time saying unto me that much -shame would it be to me if I jousted not worthily since I bare so noble -a crest. - -Then, with lance lowered, being desirous that it should be rightly -placed, without ado I spurred my charger against another, and you could -see him come towards me. And we faltered not in the encounter, but, -since it is not seemly to relate one's own deeds, I will not here tell -aught with regard to my exploits on that occasion, save that the fair -one held what I performed that day so well done, that, of her grace, she -gave me very great praise for it, and, in the end, she awarded the prize -for those who were of the place to me, and, right joyous, I took it with -the ready assent of the ladies, and thus you may know of a truth that, -according to my age, I did my duty there, all the day, as much as in me -lay. If I did aught that was valiant, no praise do I deserve for it, for -you may know of a surety that it was love, and not I myself, which was -the cause of it all. Without doubt there were to be found in this -company many proven knights more doughty than myself, for, of a truth, -as was well known, there were come there, from all parts, both nobles -and those of lesser degree who were more worthy of the prize. But I trow -that the ladies did this for that they saw how eager I was, and because -of this favourable disposition, I believe that when they awarded me the -prize, they were really desirous that I might be constrained to joust -the more readily. - -And the prize which was decreed for strangers, was given to a German, an -able and skilful jouster amongst a thousand. - -Thus did the tournament dure all the day, and, without ceasing, fresh -jousters came to it, and our men maintained themselves against all -comers. And how shall I sum it all up? Every one jousted well and -fairly, but the blows which were given, and by whom, and in what manner, -it concerns me not to recount, for that is not what I have in view, nor -what I purpose to tell. - -And night came, and the joust ended. Then every one departed quickly, -and all returned to the castle, where the cooks made haste with the -supper. And I sent my gentlemen to those who were lodged without, as to -friends, with a message that, in the name of the noble ladies, and in my -own name, I earnestly besought of all gentlefolk, both strangers and -neighbours, that they would come and keep festival with us. Thus on all -sides I caused a knightly entertainment to be proclaimed, and that whoso -would, might come and keep the feast. - -Then straightway there came those of both high and low degree. There -were barons from many lands, and it needs not to ask if there was a -great assemblage, and, certes, there were received there, with ever -increasing pleasure, so many folk, that the castle was filled. And I -received them with glad countenance. And there was a great number of -barons and of gentlefolk from many parts, and, with right goodwill, I -did honour to each one according to his rank. And the supper was -plenteous and choice. - -And when that we were risen from the table, the minstrels sounded their -horns, and those of noble rank apparelled them for the dance, and none -were there amongst them who did not wear rich broidered doublets, all -sewn over with lace of beaten gold and silver, and the ladies were -arrayed in like manner; in suchwise did they make ready to dance gaily. -Then merrily commenced the glad festival, at the which many a gracious -lady and fair damozel courteously besought the strangers to dance, and -led them forth. - -Then the dancing commenced throughout the hall, and every one strove to -dance gaily. But I, whom love had filled with ardent passion, thought -only of my lady, and gave no heed to this. I essayed to dance a little, -so that my longing might not be perceived or known. Then I joined the -elder knights, until word was brought to me to go without tarrying into -the hall, for that my lady, who eagerly made enquiry for me, sent for -me. And truly did I rejoice at this. So with a goodly company of -gentlefolk, I turned me to the hall, where all were merry for that they -vied with one another in the dance. - -And when I was come to my lady, she said to me, "Fair Sir Cousin, -wherefore do you not dance?" - -And I made answer, "Do _you_ dance, my Lady, and thus set me the -example." - -And she said that I must dance first; and so, to make commencement, I -led to the dance a fair lady with a merry countenance, and escorted her -round once or twice, and then led her back to her seat. Then I took my -lady by the hand, and with her assent, gaily led her forth to the dance. - -Thus the dance dured the most part of the night, and at last it ended, -and each one retired to rest, and laid him down on fair white sheets. -But I who had lady and mistress, and who in my heart felt the torment of -the desire to be loved of her with the which I was consumed, spake thus -under my breath:-- - - - -ROUNDEL - - - Laughing grey eyes, whose light in me I bear, - Deep in my heart's remembrance and delight, - Remembrance is so infinite delight - Of your brightness, O soft eyes that I fear. - - Of love-sickness my life had perished here, - But you raise up my strength in death's respite, - Laughing grey eyes, whose light in me I bear. - - Certes, by you my heart, I see full clear, - Shall of desire attain at last the height, - Even that my lady, through your sovereign might, - May me continue in her service dear, - Laughing grey eyes, whose light in me I bear. - -And the day dawned, and what shall I tell concerning it? Wherefore -should I longer stray from my subject without good cause? On the morrow, -throughout the whole day, the esquires, who bore them fairly and well in -every way, likewise jousted. And there were also twenty, clad all in -green, who maintained the combat, and the ladies assembled to watch -them, and to bestow the prizes. And there were twenty damsels there, -apparelled in green, and they wore golden chaplets on their tresses, and -were all very noble ladies, comely, and fair to look on. And during the -encounter, many high-saddled chargers were overthrown, and shields were -struck, and lances broken. And many a blow deserving of praise was given -and endured. But I will not stay me further to give a long account of -this, for it pleases me better to rehearse that for the sake of which I -began this story, and that which I thought and did and said in this love -affair, about the which at that time I made great dole. - -For three whole days--this is no fable--the pleasing festival dured, at -the which all were made welcome and at their ease. Then the revel ended, -but my lady departed not for the space of a whole month. I besought of -him who was her lord to grant this, and he granted it, and if that I had -dared, right willingly would I have made a recompense unto him for this. - -And you may know right well what joy I must needs have had from this -pleasing sojourn. Each hour my only care was to devise perfectly how I -could best give her diversion. - -And on a day I caused baths to be made ready, and the stoves to be -heated, and the tubs to be placed in white pavilions in a fitting spot. -And it chanced that I went thither when my lady was in the bath, and she -received me not with pleasure, but I had perfect joy when I looked upon -her fair flesh as white as a lily. Greatly did this delight me, as you -who hear tell of it can well believe. On another day we went to the -chase, and on another we descended down to the river to fish. In -suchwise did we pass the whole month, following many gladsome pursuits. - -But know that in the midst of this my happiness, love bound my heart in -its toils more firmly than ever, and laid so violent hold on it, that a -great desire to be loved was so kindled within me, that, ere the -festival was ended, never did any other miserable being endure such -stress of mind. No happiness had I if I could not see her and gaze -constantly upon her, of the which I never wearied, for, as it seemed to -me, never could I be enough in her presence, and moreover this mood made -me so to crave after her kindly goodwill, that dolour laid grievous hold -on me, and you may well believe that I was not skilled enough to know -how wholly to hide the grievous sorrow I endured. And albeit I would not -discover my thoughts to either man or woman, ne'ertheless so troubled -was I in mind, and in such great tumult, that, in spite of myself, my -face revealed my state. - -I was now pensive, now merry. And like unto one forsaken, I ofttimes -wept so bitterly, that I seemed to myself like to die in grievous sorrow -from despair and from loss of the hope of ever gaining her love; -wherefore I paled, and trembled, and reddened, and oft changed colour, -and sweated from fear, and became disquieted, so that at times my -courage altogether failed me, and then it oft happened that in bed I -became quite calm. I neither drank nor ate meat with relish, nor could I -in anywise sleep, the which threw me into such state, that I grew worse -and worse. And no one knew what ailed me, for in nowise would I speak to -any one of my condition, nor for my life would I confess it even to her -whom I loved. Ne'ertheless she ofttimes enquired of me what ailed me, -and bade me tell unto her my condition, and hide it not from her, and -that I should speak to her without fear, for I must not doubt me that -she would do all that in her lay to ease me. - -Thus longwhiles my lady comforted me, but ne'ertheless I dared not, for -all the gold in the world, make known or confess unto her the load which -my heart bare, and thus, in deep thought, I wept and sighed. - -And at that time I became so filled with love, that I know not what more -to say concerning it, save that I had troublous and painful acquaintance -with it, and from that time lacked the quiet and pleasurable peace of -mind which aforetime I enjoyed, and plunged my heart into another peril, -for I came to reject all solace, and to make of sorrow my very pitiless -guest. Longwhiles did I remain in this state, without daring to pray for -mercy, for fear of refusal. And thus, bewailing my ill-fortune, I made -complaint in these words:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Love, I had not ever thought - Thou would'st bid thy servant share - Grief to which all else is naught, - Grief whereunder I despair: - Thus unfaltering I declare - That in death I pass away - If thy saving grace delay. - - In a burning passion caught - I grow faint, and may not bear - All the torment it hath wrought: - Thine the fault, be thine the care! - Loose me from this evil snare! - Other help is none to pray, - If thy saving grace delay. - - Rather had I death besought, - (So without deceit I swear), - Since my heart is all distraught - With thy flame enkindled there. - Murmuring is not mine to dare: - I must perish as I may, - If thy saving grace delay. - - Love, with gladness meet my prayer, - Cleanse my soul and make it fair, - Since in sorrow I must stay - If thy saving grace delay. - -[Illustration: _And at the end of the month it behoved my mistress ... -to quit the castle_] - -And at the end of the month it behoved my mistress, by reason of whom I -lived in anguish, to quit the castle afore-named, for no longer could -she remain there, and so she departed. Then was I truly in grievous -plight, since I lost from sight the very perfect fair one without whom I -could not live. Now was all my happiness ended, for longwhiles had I -been used to look on her, and to be with her, at all times. But now it -befell that perchance three months or four would pass ere I should hear -of her, or see her, the which was very grievous unto me to endure. And I -so grieved over the past, and felt such dolour at her departure, that I -lost my colour, my judgment, my demeanour, and my self-command. Thus I -believe that, as it might well be, many folk perceived my yearning, -about which they made gossip, the which caused her disquiet. And so much -did this weigh upon me, that I thought to die of grief. And when I heard -it noised abroad that I loved my fair lady, my grief was the more -increased, for, because of this, I had suspicion that this great -friendship made discord between me and her friends, and this grief -caused me very dire distress, for I much feared me that she was -constrained to leave because of this, and so much did this disquiet me, -that I know not how to tell of it. Howsoever, as far as in me lay, I hid -my sorrowful anger better than was my wont, and, enduring great grief, -sighing, I uttered these words:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Now in good sooth my joy is vanished clean, - And all my gladness changed to grievous ire: - What profits it, dear flower! since I have seen - Thy going hence, that I could never tire - When thou wast here - To greet thee every day in every year? - Delight that was is grown disaster fell: - Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell! - - My love, my choice, my lady and my queen, - For whom my heart is kindled in desire, - What shall I do when love from what hath been - Taketh the gold and leaveth me the mire? - Nor far nor near - Is comfort found, nor any pleasant cheer. - Gone is thy beauty, that did all excel: - Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell! - - Thine is the deed, O evil tongue and keen! - Forged for my fate upon an anvil dire: - Fortune, that loveth not my hand, I ween, - Nor yet my pen, did in the task conspire. - No help is clear - Save Death, when God shall grant him to appear; - Else thou alone could'st win me out of hell. - Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell! - - Ah, simple and dear! - At least behold me and my mourning drear. - Thy loss is torment more than I can tell. - Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell! - -And the day of departure came, and my lady set forth, and I verily -believe that she would have still delayed her going if she had dared, -but it was meet for her to do her lord's will, since it behoved her to -guard his good name. And she gave thanks to all, and took her leave, and -set out on her way. - -And I, unhappy being, who attended her, rode beside her litter, and the -fair one, who could well perceive how that, without disguise, I loved -her with a true love, looked at me fixedly with so tender a glance, that -methinks she desired to cheer my drooping heart, which was sad, and -moreover she might perchance have conversed with me but that on her left -hand there rode another, who came so nigh unto us that we were not free -to say aught which he might repeat, for the which I hated him fervently, -and I saw well that I should oft have to endure much vexation. - -In such manner we rode for a day and a half, until that we were come to -her dwelling, but in nowise did the journey seem long to me, but quickly -ended, and in truth it wearied me not, albeit I verily suffered. And I -would have taken my leave of her, but her Lord, making much false -pretence of welcome, endeavoured to detain me, but I knew from his -demeanour that he was beside himself on account of me. And this jealousy -had been put into his head by one who was at our feast, and to whom I -had afterward made a recompense, and never did I think that he would -keep watch on her. This caitiff had the charge of the fair one whom I -worshipped, and for whom I was dying of grief. So I took my leave, and -went on my way, and out of regard for my sovereign lady I dissimulated, -and hid the sorrow that was mine, and never did any eye discover that -which was such grievous pain to me, and scarce could I restrain my -feelings. But this was needful for fear of the slanderer, and so I -departed, saying:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Farewell, my lady dear and dread, - Farewell, of all sovereign and queen, - Farewell, perfect and sacred head, - Farewell, who dost all honour mean, - Farewell, true heart, loyal and clean, - Farewell, best flower the world doth bear, - Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair! - - Farewell, O wise, that no ill said, - Farewell, river that made life green, - Farewell, in whom fame harboured, - Farewell, voice that all ears could win, - Farewell, solace of all my teen, - Farewell, whose grace is wide as air, - Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair! - - Farewell, soft look that through me sped, - Farewell, more fair than Helen queen, - Farewell, body and sweet soul wed, - Farewell, thou most gracious demesne, - Farewell, pole-star, joyous and keen, - Farewell, fountain of valour rare, - Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair! - - Farewell, Princess of noblest mien, - Farewell, thou aweing smile serene, - Farewell, without fault, sin's despair, - Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair! - -Thus did I commune with myself, and, sighing, I departed, and made great -haste to reach my dwelling. And I was weighed down and troubled with -grievous sorrow when I no longer saw there her whom I had dared choose -as my lady, and whom my heart held so dear. - -Now I made known at the beginning how that I desired to be a lover, and -to be gentle, and how love wounded me with his dart, of the which my -heart will never be healed, and as I have spoken of the ill that came to -me from that time, so is it meet that I tell you of the good. And this -distemper increased, by reason of which my strength diminished, so that -in a little I grew pale, and thin, and sad, and ofttimes sighed from -grief, for no solace had I, since I knew not how to discover any good -way to see my sweet lady, and, certes, so much did I fear her rebuke, -that I dared not approach her, however grievous it was, and this plunged -me into tears, and troubled me. Thus I was sick a-bed, and then I -uttered this ballad:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Since, O my Love, I may behold no more - Thy sovereign beauty that was all my cheer, - My heart is given up to sorrows sore: - For though the wealth of all the world were here, - There is no ease but in beholding thee - Who art afar! Whence I of tears am fain - Mourning the happy days that used to be: - Yet unto none but thee may I complain. - - Doubt not of this, true love whom I adore, - Thine image in my soul is ever clear: - I think but on the blessedness of yore - And on thy beauty, simple-sweet and dear. - So fiercely smiteth love, I may not flee - Nor may my soul the dread assault sustain: - Death could not bring a sorrier weird to dree, - Yet unto none but thee may I complain. - - Alas! one only mercy I implore. - When I am dead (as I to death am near) - Pray for me, and thy praying shall restore - My wounded spirit: shed one tender tear-- - Great were my comfort if my piteous plea - Might touch thy heart, if sorrow might constrain - Thy lips to sigh, such need of sighs have we. - Yet unto none but thee may I complain. - - Sweet flower, to whom I do abandon me, - My heart is broken down with bitter pain - For one whom Fortune would not have me see: - Yet unto none but thee may I complain. - - - Here is set forth how the Lover made Complaint - unto his Friend - -[Illustration: _Comment l'amant se complaint a son compaignon_] - -Thus did my sorrow increase until my heart endured very grievous -torment, and without doubt this sore trouble would have killed me if God -had not betimes brought back my kinsman of the whom I have made mention, -and who delivered me from destruction. And when he was come back from -the country, he well perceived and understood from my countenance the -sorrow which possessed me. Thus he found me very sick and without -colour, the which caused him great disquiet. And he came to me as soon -as ever he was able, and I was o'erjoyed when I heard his voice, for -right dearly did I love him. And he wept when he saw me thus grown -worse. And I drew him near to me, and embraced him lovingly, and he said -to me, "My God, what a face! Is there cause for it? In good sooth you -must tell me truly of your state, without reserve, and naught must you -conceal from me of your condition which you would not do from a priest -to whom you would make confession, and, certes, very foolish would you -be to keep sealed up in your heart the trouble which robs you of your -peace of mind and your health. So much have I frequented the world, that -I perceive and understand your sorrow, for I have been in danger of the -like malady. This is not sickness; rather is it passion, for doubtless -such love has come to you as consumes you like as fire does straw. Of -this, naught have I to learn of you. And greatly do you misconceive our -close fellowship if you fear that in aught I would betray you, and that -I would not screen you more than I would myself. When you have told unto -me the trouble which has cruelly taken possession of you, doubtless you -will find your grief diminished, for very great hurt comes to him who -suffers from love-sickness without speaking of it to any one. Therefore -tell me the whole matter, my dear cousin, my lord and my master, without -keeping aught back, or, if you do not so, for longwhiles will I go into -Germany, for believe me that it grieves me not a little to see you thus, -and not a whit can I rest." - -And when this one, who held me dear, had thus, to the utmost of his -power, urged me to make confession unto him of my inmost thoughts, his -gentle speech so touched and melted my heart, that I began to sob and to -weep piteously enough to kill me, since it seemed as if I neither ought -nor could tell unto him the grief which everything caused me. And he, -cast down and sad by reason of the trouble from the which he saw that I -suffered, out of great compassion wept bitterly, and began freely to -make offer to me of himself and his possessions for to make me happy, -and in every way, no matter how great it was, he strove to this end, and -without ceasing he strongly counselled me rather to take comfort, and to -weep no more, since this was neither reasonable nor dignified. - -In suchwise did my good friend exhort me to be happy once more. Then I -at once made him answer, "Sweet cousin and friend, I know well that you -have great love for me, even as I, forsooth, have for you, therefore it -is meet that we conceal not from one another our joys, or our -misfortunes, or aught beside. Therefore I will tell unto you truly all -my state, although to none other, however much I loved him, would I -speak of it. You know, very sweet cousin, and you have in remembrance, -how that we went together, not long since, to a place nigh unto this, -where we met with a lady whose coming I have since paid dearly for, for -from that time my very simple youthfulness has left me, and, without -intent to do me harm, love has brought this trouble upon me, from the -which I am dying, but in nowise must I blame any one, for truly no lady -is there who is her equal in beauty, in prudence, or in worth. And you -know how that I devised our festival, the which was gorgeous, and that -all this was for love of her. And after the feast was ended, I besought -of him who is her lord, to allow my sweet lady to remain all the summer -at our castle for her diversion and pleasure, and to hunt in the forest, -the which was green then, and is so still. And you know that he -willingly gave consent, but you stayed not, methinks, three whole days -after that, for you soon departed thence, but life was joyous to me -because of my lady whom I saw the while without hindrance. But, with -intent to make me sorrowful, misfortune, which busies itself with -bringing much hurt to lovers, caused one, whom may hell-fire consume, to -keep watch on my doings, and this one, like unto one full of malice, -well perceived my state (for I was very inexperienced), and that my -heart was altogether in bondage to her. In nowise do I know how he was -able to perceive it, for, to deceive every one in this affair, I took -much pains to dissemble, and so much the more frequented the company of -other ladies, and never did I discover my thoughts to any one, nor did I -even speak of them to her whose liegeman I am, and who wots not aught of -that which weighs heavily on me. And this disloyal one noised abroad -such report, that her jealous lord constrained the fair lady to depart -without more delay. Wherefore, if I had not feared me to bring dishonour -upon her, I would have made him who brought this about to feel regret -for it, and greatly to repent it, and to experience my vexation and -displeasure. Thus have I lived in distress for the space of three -months, and sooner would I die, so as to be delivered from this sad -grief, than live thus, since I can no longer see her, albeit she has -since, of her grace, made enquiry regarding my state, and has caused me -to know that in a little while I may count upon seeing her, although I -must not let this be known, and that a time will come when a change in -affairs will come about, and that I must be of good cheer. So I know, or -at least bethink me, that my dear lady perceives and knows without doubt -that I love her sincerely, but scarce can I endure the strain of the -longing which possesses me, for greatly do I long for her. Ne'ertheless -I have since seen her, though unknown to others, for I disguised me so -that I might not be recognised, and, from a distance, I have seen her -pass by. Thus you can understand that I have since lived in such grief -that a speedy death has been my only desire. But I see not how either -you or any other can succour me, for it is not possible that this -jealous one, with his spies, would not discover it, and be assured that -I must either endure this or die, but if that you will give heed for a -while, you will understand wherefore it behoves me to rejoice over this -grievous experience of love, and how I maintain this in my song. - - - -BALLAD - - - Thou, O Love, the traitor art! - Tender once as any may, - Then the wielder of the dart - That is pointed but to slay. - Thee with reason, by my fay, - Double-visaged we declare: - One is as the ashes grey, - But one is as an angel fair. - - Loth am I to find my part - In the night without a ray, - Yet desire hath stung my heart - And I sigh in sorrow's sway. - Gentle hope will never stay - In the mansions of despair: - One to death would point the way, - But one is as an angel fair. - - Hope might in my spirit start, - Death thy servant bids her nay: - While beneath thy scourge I smart, - Doleful still must be my lay, - Since to set my steps astray, - Thou at once art wheat and tare: - One is like a devil, yea, - But one is as an angel fair. - - Love, thou teachest me to say - Double tribute is to pay - For thy servants everywhere: - One is grievous, well-a-day! - But one is as an angel fair. - -Much did this ballad charm my cousin, but greatly was he distressed at -my grief, and in this manner did I, who never wearied of, or ceased -from, weeping, make an end to my discourse. And thereby my distemper was -diminished, but my cousin was forthwith angered when he saw me thus -discomforted. And he spake thus to me: "Alack-a-day! Right well do I -perceive that you possess little discretion and courage. What reason -have you, fair Sir, to demean you thus? Certes, you should be happy, -methinks, since your lady, by her messenger, makes promise to you of -solace at a fitting time. You are foolish when you relinquish the hope -which gives you comfort, for be assured that your lady is mindful of -your love, and that she longs to give you pleasure. How can such grief -enter your foolish thoughts, so as to allow you to be thus cast down and -to die of despair? Many a lover, without any hope of being loved by his -mistress, has longwhiles served in great anguish without any solace -either of soul or body, and not a single glance from her has he -received, nor has he dared to approach her for fear of slander. If you -have patience, and believe what I say, certes, you have but to make -plaint as I have done, and you will soon be able to attain your desire. -Since your lady takes pleasure in your doings, you may be assured that -no fear will be strong enough to restrain her. But however grievous it -may be, it may lead to your undoing that you have allowed so long time -to pass by without making her acquainted with your state. Very certain -is it that never will she importune you, and I know not wherefore you -were so foolish that, when you had opportunity, and were unhindered, you -spake not to her of all the love with the which you loved her, instead -of giving yourself up longwhiles to dreams!" - -Then I forthwith made answer, "Alas, Cousin! I dared not, even if I had -fitting opportunity, for I was afraid, and so much did I fear her, that -I dared not tell her of it, even if I died because of this. For this -reason I faltered, and greatly do I repent me of it, but never had I the -courage to do it, for in her presence I was greatly disquieted, although -when I was alone I thought to myself that I would speak to her. And it -ofttimes happened to me thus, but, certes, I persevered not when I was -in her presence. The delight of her loving glance, the which was so -sweet to me, filled me with such great ecstasy, that it seemed to me -that she would perceive my distress of mind without my saying aught." - -Then my cousin made answer, "Foolish is the lover who hides from a lady -the love he bears her, for, on my soul, the delay may do him sore hurt. -But since you dared not speak to her because of the fear which possessed -you, as you know well how to write, wherefore do you not send her a -letter or missive? And I am still more surprised at your folly that, -when you received her messenger, you sent not back word to her of your -state since the time when you parted from her. And wherefore did you -delay? His coming was indeed timely had not your folly held you back, -and in this I without doubt speak the truth, for, since she so desired -to give you gratification that she took thought to hear news of your -doings, you can perceive that your love was in her thoughts. She must -indeed regard you as a novice since you sent not to her! Never a day let -fall from your lips a single word in anywise touching upon sadness, but -rather be cheerful, and leave all to me, and so well shall I know how to -deceive every one, that I am willing to become a monk if there is any -one on this earth who will be able to hinder you from seeing the fair -one without this ever being noised abroad, if she so wills it, and you -desire it. So grieve no more, but make glad countenance, for, without -preaching longer to you, I make promise and swear to you that ere the -week is passed, more than once shall you see your lady. And if God -guides me in this, verily shall I find out the way to accomplish this." - -Then, even as the light illumines the darkness, and the exceeding -brightness of the sun banishes the gloom, so was the cruel torment of my -suffering subdued and ended by this one, who so truly comforted me that -he filled me with joy and gladness, and stayed my grief, so that I had -naught left of the which to make complaint. - -And in nowise did he make default, but when that an hour and a half was -gone by, he set forth to my lady. To be brief, he spoke prudently to the -fair one, and right gladly did he plead on my behalf, and of his own -free will he told unto her all the truth concerning my sad trouble, and -how that he had found me nigh unto death, and knew not whether I could -recover from the sickness the which constrained me not to stir from my -bed, and he told her all, and, in a word, that he could not comfort me. -Then he counselled her that, for God's sake, she should not suffer one -so young to be placed in peril of death by reason of too great love of -her, and that she would be to blame if she were the cause of my death. - -In such manner did he, by his gentle and wise speech, entreat my lady to -feel pity for the sickness from the which I was languishing on account -of her, since never did I waver in the desire the which brought misery -unto me and made me long to see her. And he told me that when he had -ended his discourse, he saw that the fair one, who was very silent, was -pale as death, and of very sad countenance, and he well perceived from -her demeanour that my sickness grieved her, and aroused her compassion, -but she ne'ertheless desired it to appear quite otherwise. And she spake -in this wise: "This is a strange thing that you tell unto me, fair Sir, -that my cousin and yours is in this state. By the Apostle Paul, scarce -can I believe that he could ever have thought on this! Good God, that -this should have entered his thoughts! But if this be so, doubtless it -is naught but youthfulness and great lack of prudence which plunges him -into sadness, and, with God's help, in a little while this will pass -away. Turn him from this if you can, and counsel him that he put an end -to it, and turn his thoughts elsewhere, for never could he come near me -without great ill coming of it if that he were seen. I wot not how it -came to the knowledge of that spy (God curse him), by reason of whom I -have not the courage to speak to any living man, and if he were within, -I should not dare to hold converse thus with you. Since he discovered -that this young man had the daring to love me, he has filled my lord -with bitter anger, and has aroused such jealousy of me, that in nowise -do I dare speak to any one alone, and wheresoe'er I am, there the varlet -must be, and I have him ever at my heels, for he is set to keep watch on -me. And I fear me that all this is only because of suspicion of your -cousin, for he pays close attention to that which is said to me, and -ofttimes goes to the gate to see who enters here. And by God I swear to -you that, if it were not for qualms of conscience, I would have him so -well beaten by my kinsfolk that, unless he were very foolhardy, never -would he dare return to keep watch on me. And so that this espial, the -which is so irksome to me, might come to an end, I sent word to your -cousin, and urged him much that for awhile he would refrain from coming -hither, so that this spy might not see him, and that when this -watchfulness was somewhat abated, he could come to see us, and more he -could not look for. It indeed seems to me certain that it will come to -an end by degrees, and thus I believe that doubtless my lord will no -longer give thought to jealousy, so that he will soon be able to come -here, but sincerely do I believe that, if he has a care for me, it will -be better that he keep away, and come not here. Of a truth, as every one -bears witness, the love which dwells only in the imagination, fades -away." - -Thus strangely did she make answer, and not a word more did she utter -for my comfort. And he forthwith made answer in this wise: "You are so -full of compassion, my Lady, that, whatever you may say, I tell you -truly I believe not that you will leave him, who is wholly yours, to -perish both in body and soul. You have said that I can turn him from it. -Yea, truly, by rending his soul from his body! No other way do I know. -Certes, I have made every endeavour to divert him from it, but I tell -you, forsooth, that he will die if he is left without hope, and naught -will you have profited if his days are cut off through losing you. -Worthy Lady, give me your answer, for I care not a whit for the jealous -one, and never will his spies make use of such cunning that I shall not -altogether deceive them. But, since I perceive you pity him, grant him -this favour. I speak thus much of him to you so that you may be willing -that he come here with me, and I will apparel him duly and fittingly, -and will so much concern me with this, that he shall be recognised of -none provided you tell me how you would that he should deport himself in -order to see you. So hesitate no longer, for the matter moves too slowly -for him." - -And she said: "In nowise believe that I am so much his enemy that his -grief and his sorrow do not cause me much discomfiture, for you may know -of a truth that right well do I love him, and he is right in guarding -mine honour, and without delay I shall do all that should content him, -but I am not willing to say more now concerning this matter save that he -demean himself with prudence, and come not here as yet, but _you_ may -come ofttimes provided you hold but little discourse with me before this -spy. Let me know of your doings by one who is prudent, who shall go to -you. This messenger is loyal, I give you my faith, and if you and he -trust not one another, I shall be uneasy, for none other dare approach -me. And now we have discoursed together long enough, and we know not -whether we are being watched. So tell your friend that he may be joyous -and happy, and that you have so prevailed with me that, if violence does -not intervene, he will not fail in that which he asks for. Thus you will -commend me to him, and cheer him, saying that ere a week is gone by he -will be able to see much of me. And let us hold counsel together no -longer now, and do you trouble yourself no more about the matter. We -have indeed been fortunate in that we have not been disturbed whiles -that we have so long time discoursed together at our ease. Await, -however, my lord, who, as I well know, has not for long time had such -pleasure as he will have when he knows of your coming. Meanwhiles, we -will play at chess. We may amuse ourselves in this manner for a while." - -And then, without more ado, they forthwith commenced to play at a side -table. And at the end of the game the master and lord entered the -chamber. Then my cousin went towards him, and when the latter met him, -he gave him hearty welcome, and said that his coming was very pleasing, -and that he was welcome. In a word, without detaining you longer, he -treated him with great deference, and said that all that was his was at -his command, and that whensoe'er he stayed in those parts, nowhere else -must he lodge, but he must come there. This would give him happiness -above all things, but otherwise he would be displeased. And the latter -gave him much thanks for this. And on the morrow, after meat, he took -his leave and departed thence, and he hasted his return, for he knew how -I was longing for this and that it would bring me very great delight. - -And when he was returned, he related unto me all that had happened to -him on his journey, and that he believed that my affairs would prosper -right well provided it were pursued yonder quickly and with skill, -wherefore, as he had made promise to my lady, he would have all things, -both great and small, under his ordering, since he had so agreed with -her. Thus did he tell and recount all to me. - -Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow -which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he -advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which -I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed -heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave -who besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all -suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for -to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in -the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and -all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the -which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline -unto love. - - - -_Sealed Letter_ - - - _To her who surpasses all, and whom my heart fears and - worships_ - - Lady, the flower of all of high degree, very renowned and - revered princess, the desire of my heart, and the joy of my - eyes, who art exalted above the consideration of the lowly, my - much loved and coveted lady, deign, for pity's sake, to hearken - unto and to accept the sad plaint of your servant, who, since he - is under restraint, is like to one who is nigh unto death, and - who takes perilous remedies in order that he may either end his - days or live. To you, very sweet Lady, who, by your refusal, can - slay me, or, by the tender solace of your consent, can give me - life, I come to entreat either swift death, or a speedy cure. - Most beautiful one, I know well that you have such discernment - that you have been able to perceive how that, because of you, - love has longwhiles held me, and still holds me, in its toils, - and how that the fear and dread with the which great love has - filled my heart, has robbed me of the courage to tell you of it, - sweet lady. And I know that you are so gracious, that if you had - perceived and known all the pain and the torment which I have - since suffered, and still endure, through desire for your tender - love, then, albeit I have not yet performed enough deeds of - valour, and have not enough of worth, to have deserved the love - of even one of less noble birth than yourself, the gentle pity - of your kindly heart would not have suffered me to endure such - disquiet. Ah, Lady, if you have regard to your worth and your - great renown for that, by reason of my youth, I have not yet - been counted valiant, it will be my death! But, my honoured - Lady, know that you can so strengthen me as to give me heart and - courage to undertake and to achieve, according to my ability, - all honourable things that the mind of a lover dare think on or - do for love of lady. And, sweet Lady, and my goddess on earth, - since you can, with much ease, greatly gladden him who loves and - worships you as his most coveted possession, deign to recognise - how that, by your tender solace, he may be saved from death, and - life may be restored to him. And if you would ask or would know - what has brought him to this, I tell you that it is your very - sweet, pleasing, beautiful, laughing, and loving eyes. Ah, Lady, - since it is by them that this cruel wound has been inflicted, it - seems to me but just that it should be soothed and healed by the - delight of your compassion. Therefore may it please you, very - winsome and honoured Lady, to make me acquainted with your good - pleasure, and whether you would that I die or recover. By no - means would I weary you with a long letter, and be assured that - I know not how to tell or to write fully how matters stand with - me, but you will indeed come to know this, whether I win your - love or not, for, if I fail in this, you will see me die, but if - by good fortune I win it, the result will be seen in willing - service. So I send you these two ballads here enclosed, the - which may it please you to receive kindly. Very beautiful and - fair one, whose praise I am not able duly to set forth, I pray - God that He will vouchsafe to you as many favours and delights - as the tears the which I have shed for love of you.--Written - with a fervent and longing heart, - - Your very humble and obedient slave. - - - -BALLAD - - - Sweet Lady, fair and gentle without peer, - Have mercy on me, who all thy words obey - Body and soul do I abandon here - Unto thy will, and humbly thus I pray: - Come quickly nigh, - Have pity, and cure my sickness when I cry: - Oh, I beseech thee, graciously attend - And so consent to take me for thy friend. - - To thee I give myself, O flower most dear. - For mercy I beseech, and wilt thou slay? - I charge thee by that Lord whom we revere - To lift this wrong that crushes me away. - No help have I - From any other: leave me not to die! - See, faithfully I serve thee to the end, - And so consent to take me for thy friend. - - Seest thou not how I shed full many a tear: - And if thy help for longer shall delay - I am but shent, what need to speak more clear? - Ah, love me, Love so holds me in his sway! - Then hither hie, - Be merciful, for near to death I lie: - 'Tis truth, thou knowest, I have no hope to mend, - And so consent to take me for thy friend. - - Lady, I thank thee, and all my duty send, - And so consent to take me for thy friend. - - - -ANOTHER BALLAD - - - In this sad world have pity, my lady dear, - Dear to me more than any other there: - Their pride you know not; let not gracious cheer - Cheer me at so great cost, oh white and fair! - Fare I thus ill, yet canst thou bid me see - Seasons of solace that may comfort me. - - If for unfitness I be slighted here, - Here am I dead, and arrows of despair - Spare not to pierce my heart, and life grows drear, - Drear as my brooding on the doom I bear. - Bear witness, Love withholds in obduracy - Seasons of solace that might comfort me. - - O loveliest one and sweetest, without peer, - Peerless in honour, of all bounties heir, - Ere I thy servant pine in sorry fear - Fear not a kind and gentle guise to wear. - Where shall I find, 'mid this deep dolorous sea, - Seasons of solace that may comfort me? - - Dear Lady, grant in gracious courtesy - Seasons of solace that may comfort me. - -Thus as you have heard did I write to my lady, and by my letter I made -known to her my trouble, for to gain her solace. And my cousin bare the -letter. For awhile he remained on his guard, and carefully watched for -the time when he could safely have speech of her. And then he told her -of my letter, at the which she in nowise made complaint, but received it -gladly. And, smiling, she read the letter and the ballads twice or -thrice, and then the fair and gracious one said, "I will write in reply -to your cousin, and more I will not say to you now, but I will set me -about it. And whiles that I am so occupied, do you divert yourself with -chess, and checkmate my kinswoman here." - -Then she withdrew to an inner chamber with her secretary, who well knew -how to keep her counsel, and than whom she had none other more -confidential, and she commenced to express her thoughts in writing, and -composed the letter the which is here set forth. - - - -_Reply of the Lady to the Afore-Mentioned Letter_ - - - To my Courteous Friend-- - - My fair and courteous knight, may it please you to know that I - have received your tender and loving letter and ballads in the - which you make known to me that, unless you have speedy succour, - you will die. So I write you this letter in reply. If you feel - assured that it is on account of me that you are so ill at ease, - I am heartily sorry for it, for I would not be the cause of - sorrow to any one, and it grieves me the more in your case than - in that of any other, since so long time have I known you. But - when, dear friend, you ask of me to give you solace, I - understand not the meaning of your request, but so that you may - know my determination, be well assured that if you asked of me, - or I discovered that you meant, aught that would be dishonouring - or shameful, never would you obtain your desire, and wholly - would I banish you from me. Of this you can be certain, for - rather would I die than that, for aught in the world, I should - consent to soil mine honour. But if so it be that the love of a - lady, given honourably and without evil intent, can suffice you, - you may know that I am the one whom love has made disposed to - hold you in esteem, both now and for aye. And once again I make - confession unto you that, when I know of a surety that your - desire is satisfied with that which I am willing to grant, I - shall think on you as my one dearly loved friend, if I see your - loving purpose and goodwill continue. And if it be, as you have - declared in your aforesaid letter, that I can be the means of - your advancement in valour, I would ask of God no greater - favour. Therefore be pleased to write to me all your wishes in - the matter, but have a care, ne'ertheless, that no desire make - you false in aught which may hereafter prove to be anyways - contrary to that which you avouch, or wholly shall I banish you - from me. So I would that you put away from you all melancholy - and sadness, and be merry and contented and cheerful, but above - all I charge and enjoin you to be discreet, and, as far as in me - lies, I forbid you to concern yourself with the habit common to - many of your age, the which is, not to know how to keep aught - secret, and to make boast of being even more favoured than - others. And have a care that you reveal naught to friend or - companion, however intimate you may be, save what, for your aid, - it is needful that your best friend should know. And if you do - thus, and hold to it, you may be sure that love will in nowise - fail to bestow its favour on you in large measure. My dear and - good friend, I pray God to give you all that you can wish for, - for methinks not that this is beyond what is seemly.--Written in - gladsome mood, - - Your friend. - -When this letter was finished, my lady arose, and returned to my cousin. -And she gave it to him, and told him that, despite its contents, I must -no longer be sad, and that she would take pains to heal me of my -sickness, and ere long would appoint a day, hour, and place, when I -could without fail have speech with her, and that she sent the letter to -me with the message that she trusted herself in my hands, and charged me -to be no longer ill at ease. - -Then he gave her thanks, and departed, and on his return he related unto -me how gracious and good he had found my lady to be. And I, who awaited -him with the fierceness and fervour of a great longing, held out my -hands with joy, saying, "I thank Thee, my God, for Thy mercy to me." - -And he delivered the letter to me, and I, whom this filled with great -joy, straightway took it. And as soon as I had read it, I kissed it, I -think, an hundred times, and I read it, I assure you, not once only, but -more than twenty times, for never did I tire of this when I understood -its contents, the which cheered me. Wherefore I made merry, and ceased -to grieve, for I would be joyous, since my sweet lady so ordained. Thus -was hope wholly restored to me, and no longer had I fear of refusal as -had been my wont, but I desired to make answer to her letter. So I took -pen and paper, and pounce and ink, and withdrew me. Then gladly, and -without hindrance, I wrote in suchwise as I here set forth. - - - -_To the Fairest of All_ - - - My very Honoured Mistress-- - - Very fair and kind, and indeed I could, from the bottom of my - heart, say, very loved, honoured, and coveted Lady, for whose - sake love, through the charm of your beauteous eyes, has made me - willingly become your true bondsman, and in whose sweet service - I would, as far as I am able, even if not as far as I should do, - unreservedly spend all my life, I give you thanks for your very - gracious and pleasing letter, which, through the comfort of - sweet hope, has imparted vigour and strength to my heavy-laden - heart, the which was sorrowful and almost broken through despair - of ever gaining your love. And, my much longed-for and honoured - Lady, in answer to one of the matters you treat of in it, the - which is that you understand not the meaning of my request, - whilst on your part you would have me to know that you would - rather die than that your honour were soiled, I tell you truly, - very sweet Mistress, and give you assurance, that my wish is - altogether and entirely like unto your own. Of a truth, if I - could desire aught but your goodwill, in nowise could I hold you - as the lady of my heart, nor myself as your liegeman. And - touching your warning to me to take heed that I so demean me as - not to make boast of aught which may afterward prove to be - untrue, I verily make promise unto you, very gentle Lady, and I - swear faithfully on my word of honour, that all my life long you - shall find me such an one, and if in this I make default, I am - willing, and bind myself, to be cut off from all joy, and to be - counted as vile. And as to concealing my secret, and refraining - from telling it to either companion or friend, save to the one - from whom I may not hide it, be assured, sweet Lady, that of - this I take good heed, and, as far as in me lies, neither in - this, nor in aught beside, shall you find me wanting, and I give - you thanks for your good counsel, kind Lady. And since I give - you assurance on all matters which might embroil me, may it - please you to perform that which you make promise of in your - letter, the which is, that of your grace you will hold me as - your one loved friend, and if in aught you find me disobedient, - I am willing to be banished, and to accept great disgrace as my - due, and may God never suffer me so much as to live if at any - time I have desire to be false or untrue to you. And when, - moreover, you say that it would give you pleasure to be the - cause of my advancement, know, sweet Lady, that this could never - come to pass save through you, for none but you can either save - me, or be my undoing. Therefore, sweet Lady, may it please you - to comfort me, and give me perfect happiness, by according to me - your sweet love, and may you be willing to satisfy my famished - heart and eyes by granting them opportunity to see your loved - and much-desired self. And may you be minded to send me the very - joyous news concerning this the which I long for. Sweet and - winsome one, who art renowned above all others, I plead for your - help more often than I can tell unto you, and I pray God to - grant you a happy life, and the will to love me well.--Written - right joyously, in the hope of better fortune, - - Your humble slave. - -Thus did I finish my letter, and, at the end, I added a short ballad, so -that she might not be wearied in the reading. Therefore listen to the -device of it, for it is after a strange manner-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Kind and fair Saint, - My heart's repose, - Whose sweet constraint - Doth all enclose - That the world knows - Of graciousness, - Vouchsafe me grace! - - Fresh without taint - As the new rose, - This my heart's plaint - That overflows, - Ere my breath goes, - Pity and bless. - Vouchsafe me grace! - - Ah, sweet dove pent, - Shy dove, for whose - Dear grace I faint, - So my heart glows - It dares disclose - Love, Love, nought less. - Vouchsafe me grace! - - Save thy heart close - To longing's throes, - O Loveliness, - Vouchsafe me grace! - -And I despatched my letter by my cousin, and thus sent forth on his way -him whom I loved, imploring him to entreat of my lady that it might -please her that ere long I might have speech of her, else my wretched -and weary life would soon be ended. - -And he tarried not until he was come to her dwelling. And there he was -in nowise denied, but was made very welcome. And he wisely restrained -him until he saw the fitting time to report his errand. Then he spake -well and wisely in my behalf, praying her that, for God's sake, she -would no longer suffer me, who was dying of love, so to languish that -such hurt would ensue to me that I could not recover. Then he gave her -the letter, and she read it, and scanned it quite leisurely. To be -brief, she made answer that she well believed that I spake from the -bottom of my heart when I made request for her love, since dissimulation -was not usual in one so young, and she thought it certain, and without -doubt, that the jealous one would depart within three days, and would go -far away. And it seemed that at the same time all danger would be at an -end, and then we should be able to hold converse together without -hindrance, and, when she perceived it to be the fitting time, she would -that I should come secretly with my cousin in the evening, dressed as a -varlet, although she would have me to be concealed when I was come -there, so that neither stranger, nor kinsfolk, nor any save her -secretary, should know of it. And touching this, she would not fail to -make known by this one what she would that I should do, provided he -failed not to warn me to demean me so modestly towards her as not to do -aught to provoke her displeasure or reproach. - -And he gave her full assurance of this, saying that she might be certain -of it, for rather would I die than venture to do aught contrary to her -will. - -Thus he returned with this news, the which was so good and pleasing unto -me, that I seemed to myself to be in a very happy dream. - -And I thought on this without ceasing, but the delay seemed long to me. -And she who held my heart in bondage forgot me not on the day on which -she had made promise to send to me. Therefore it behoved me to give -hearty welcome to the very distinguished messenger who brought to me the -pleasing news for the which I was longing, the which was that I should -go at nightfall to her to whom my heart went out, and who made known to -me by this one what she would have me do, and that I should speak of it -to no one save only to him who knew of it, and that he, and I, and her -secretary, should set out, and should take none other thither. - -Then we set out quickly, and parted from our followers, discreetly -telling them not to be uneasy about it, but to be of good cheer, for it -was needful for us to arrange some business between us three, the which -would occupy us the whole day, and that we should return on the morrow. - -And right joyously did we ride without drawing rein, and exactly at the -hour named, we arrived at the place where my dear lady sometimes -sojourned. And we dismounted without a torch, and then I divested me of -my tunic, and put on another one. - -And my kind and prudent cousin went up undisguised, and I took charge of -the horses, and was careful not to be recognised. And on the instant he -invented the excuse that he was come there at that hour upon a pressing -matter the which had just arisen, and upon which he must without fail -speak unto the lord as soon as possible, for very great need made this -urgent. And he was told that he was not there, and would not return for -some months. And he said that great hurt would happen to him in -consequence. - -Then my very sweet lady made haste, and came on a sudden to a lattice -window the which overlooked the courtyard. And she said, "What chance -brings my cousin here? Go and let down the bridge quickly. Thus shall I -learn what he wants. I know not but that some one sends me urgent news -by him." - -Then was my cousin escorted to her by two damsels. And when he was come, -she asked of him, after that he had saluted her, "Is any one dead, or -what brings you here so late? I have not seen you for a week. Tell me -what you want." - -Then he said that it was of no avail for him to remain since he had not -met with the lord and master, the which grieved him. Thus it was meet -that he return. - -And she made answer that he must not do so, but must without fail make -all his affair known unto her. - -Then he said, "My varlet, who holds my horses at the gate, must bring me -a letter the which I gave into his charge, and some one must tell him to -come without delay." - -And my lady, in a haughty manner, gave command to her secretary to do -this, and he, with much haste, put the horses into a stable, and then -escorted me up. And my cousin, who took great precautions, came to the -door of the chamber, and he turned him to me, saying, "Give me that -letter quickly." Then he said to the secretary, "Let him be gone at -once, for there is naught beside for him to do here, and it is not -convenient for a varlet to remain in the chamber at this present." - -My cousin said all this for that a light was shining in the chamber, by -the which I might be recognised, and thus I should be found out. - -And he took a long letter the which I had placed in my bosom, and then -he drew my lady aside, and, reading it, showed how weighty a matter was -set forth in it. Meanwhiles the secretary, as my lady had commanded him, -made me to withdraw without a light into the chamber, the which -communicated with that of my sweet and fair lady, of a lady who was -prudent, reserved, and without reproach, and who was acquainted with -everything. - -And as soon as the letter had been read in the presence of all, my -cousin was bent on departing, and made semblance of great regret, but -she forbade him to go, and said that without fail he must remain there, -or she would make complaint of it to her lord, and thus she made him -tarry. - -And she held long converse with him, and at length, so that this might -not create wonderment, she said that it was time to rest, and that there -was no cause for any one to keep watch in her chamber. And to the end -that there might be no suspicion or doubt wherefore he was come there at -that hour, his bed was made ready in a distant chamber, to the which he -was escorted to rest, and thither was he accompanied by the most trusted -of the esquires who had the charge of her within the castle, since they -no longer waited on her because of the hour. - -Then without delay she disrobed her, and laid her down in the presence -of her gentlewomen, but not long did she remain there, but arose and -apparelled her, and made complaint that she suffered somewhat, and -because of this she would that a fire were prepared in the chamber where -I was. So I was hidden until that the serving-woman had made a fire in -the chamber. - -Then my lady came wrapped in a long mantle, and she brought not with her -any of her waiting-women save one, the whom was the lady before -mentioned, whom she had chosen above all, and on whose breast she -leaned, and she dismissed the serving-woman to bed, for she said she -would not that she remained up, so that she might not be wearied. And -after she was gone, the door was bolted. - -Then the lady came to fetch me, and led me to my lady. And scarce did I -salute her, for so perturbed did I feel, that I knew not where I was. -Ne'ertheless I said, "Sweet Lady, may God preserve you, both body and -soul." - -"Friend," made she answer, "you are very welcome." - -Then she made me to sit down beside her, and as soon as I looked on her, -I became like one beside himself. And well did my lady perceive this, -and she received me with a kiss, for the which I many times humbly gave -her thanks. - -And my lady, revered of my fearful and doubting heart, commenced to -speak after this manner. "Have I, who have caused you to come hither -thus secretly, done your will, fair Sir? Is this the deed of a friend? -In nowise deceive me now, but I earnestly entreat of you to tell me, if -you can, and whiles that you have opportunity, all your desire." - -Then all trembling with joy, sighing, I said, "Ah, sweet Lady! by my -troth I know not how to utter that which I would. Therefore, very dear -Lady, take it in good part, and recognise how that I am wholly yours, -both body and soul, and more I cannot say." - -And she drew nearer, and put her arm around my neck, and, laughing, she -spake thus. "It behoves me, then, to speak for us both, since you cannot -call to mind aught to say, and yet I verily believe that love bestows on -me so goodly a portion of his favours, that I trust I could in nowise -utter a single word concerning that which I presume you speak of, beyond -what it is meet for me to say." - -Then the other lady who was there began to smile, and she said aloud, -"Since I see you thus already in friendly accord in this matter, truly -do I perceive and know that love makes fools of the wisest." - -And my lady said to me, "My friend, since love has made us of one mind, -no longer is it needful to enquire if we love one another, and I well -believe that love claims us, or can claim us both, as his servants, the -which grieves me not. Ne'ertheless, dear friend, however much I trust -you in this matter, I would, notwithstanding, make known to you all my -will without concealing aught, and I know not what is your purport, but -I tell you that, whatever love you perceive in me, and whatever -semblance I may make, in word or look, of being trusting, pleased, or -mirthful, and although I may kiss or embrace you, never for a moment -must you imagine that I have the mind or the desire to do aught that is -dishonouring, or in the which I may not be in every way free from -reproach. Dear friend, I give you this warning, since never would I have -you to say that in the smallest degree I had surrendered myself to you, -for I swear that never will I do aught the which may tarnish mine -honour. And so, once for all, I swear to you, of a truth, that as soon -as I perceive, either from your demeanour or your look, that you cherish -other desires, never again shall you see me. I know not whether I err in -this, but I seek not to refuse you any other pleasure by the which it is -permitted to a lady to enslave her lover, and but that I should be -acting foolishly, and doing wrong to myself, I would surrender my heart -altogether to you, and would give up all that I possess for you to use -as you will, but I make promise unto you of loyalty and true friendship, -and am willing to prefer you above all others if that this will content -you, and this do I say truly. So tell me what you desire whiles that you -have time and the opportunity, for I would understand your purpose." - -And when she whom I revered had ceased speaking, I made answer, "Ah, my -Lady! Almost does it kill me to hear you speak thus. The love, the -goodness, and the favour which you extend to me, should well content me, -and I trust that you will never imagine that I am not willing to agree -to all that you command. And believe me truly that, as I wrote in answer -to your letter, I make promise unto you on my oath--and in this I -perjure myself not--I would that I should never be had in honour, but -should always be held disgraced, if that ever, for a single day, in -deed, word, or thought, I should do or think aught, either in secret or -openly, the which could displease you, and you may put me to the proof -in such manner as you will, for never will aught that your heart desires -be unwelcome to me, nor will it befall that aught which may be your wish -can grieve me, and thus it behoves me not to distress me concerning -this, for are you not my loved one? Is it not meet that I demean me -according to your will? When I shall be moved to do otherwise, may I be -destroyed, body and soul, and brought to ruin! Good God! how satisfied I -ought to be since I perceive that you love me, and call me your dear -friend! I possess that which I coveted, and naught beside do I strive -after, and I think myself well recompensed. And as you are disposed -alway to love me thus, I indeed perceive that there is no guile or -malice in your heart, and I bethink me, moreover, that I shall do such -service, that I shall be yet more loved by you. Therefore command me -even now, for I am your liegeman, and my heart is wholly pledged to you, -fair one. Declare now your pleasure, or send me whither you will, and I -will go, and will obey in all things, without opposing your humour. Thus -you can do as you will with me more than I know how to tell, and may God -watch over you, and reward you abundantly for that you thus make promise -wholly to love me. I ought not to speak ill of love, the which puts me -in the way of attaining to such great joy. Therefore, fair and kind one, -I give you humble thanks, for henceforth I shall wear the lover's crown, -and I shall put away from me every evil habit, and take virtue into my -service, the which I would seek above all things, in order to be like -unto the valiant. Thus will you make me a wise and prudent man. In fine, -sweet Lady, I could not be more happy, however much I might say -concerning it." - -Then my lady, in whom dwells every grace, very tenderly embraced me, and -kissed me more than an hundred times. And I remained thus happy all the -night, and be assured, you lovers who hear this, that I was very -contented. Many tender words full of delight were spoken that night, and -she, in whom is all goodness, showed me how and where, in spite of every -one, I might see her very often. Thus I asked for naught beside, for I -had all that I desired. Ne'ertheless she earnestly charged me to be very -mindful of her honour, even if at any time I had to defer seeing her, -although the delay might cause annoyance, for I should put her in peril -if that I took not careful heed beforehand of the proper time to come, -and to depart when she admonished me. - -Thus we passed the time, but shortwhile dured the night for me. And when -the day was come, the which grieved me, embracing and kissing me an -hundred times, and giving me sweet loving glances, she said, "Farewell, -dear love." And she bolted me in there all alone, and retired to her -room. And, later, dressed as a page, I was released by the astute -secretary, who was in the secret, and albeit I was not versed in the -business, I resumed my former office, for, as he well said, it was meet -for one who received so sweet a recompense, to take charge of the horses -at the gate, and doubtless I would not wish to busy myself in any other -office, and ofttimes did I take upon myself this pleasing service. Thus -you see how it is sometimes needful for a master to turn varlet, and -perchance in this manner he ofttimes comes by that which he desires. - -And my cousin no longer remained dreaming, but arose betimes -noiselessly, for he would not that any who slept should be awakened, and -he had taken his leave of my lady yesternight. And he went out. And I -awaited him, and led the horses to and fro like a good and trained -varlet, and he said, "Come hither, fellow. How an-angered I could be -with you when you lean on the saddle-bow!" Thus did he speak before -those present, for some knights and men-at-arms would fain escort him to -his dwelling, and they blamed him in that he had not more of his own men -with him, but he assured them that, for a certain reason, he had done it -quite designedly. He had thought to find the lord there, for never in -his life had he had greater need or desire to speak with him. And then -he desired that none should accompany him. And he set out on his way. - -And so we departed, and as we rode, we held much friendly and gracious -converse together, for the pleasing remembrance which I had on my return -of the sweet joy which had comforted me, gave me so great solace, that -no one could have had greater joy of aught. And we were quickly come to -our journey's end, so much did we spur our horses, but I had put on my -tunic again. Then, as soon as they perceived us, my retainers, who loved -me and held me in esteem, received us with great delight, and we also -were glad, and with great joy sang, in cheerful refrain, this quite new -virelay:-- - - - -VIRELAY - - - Sweet, in whom my joy must be, - Now my heart is full of glee - For thy love: and loosed from care - All my song is, "Lady fair, - Living I consume for thee." - - But thy gentle love hath sent - The fair comfort that I need: - I therewith am well content. - Gladness doth my spirit lead. - - Rightly am I glad, pardie! - For of old my jollity - Drowned in woes I had to bear: - Of thy help when I was ware - Gone was all my misery, - Sweet, in whom my joy must be. - - Since the day that thou hast lent - Thy dear heart, my life is freed - From the sorrows I lament: - Peace and gladness are my meed. - - Lady, love despatcheth me - Succour sweet, who thus am free - From my sickness: pale despair - Rules no longer when I share - Hope that I thy face may see, - Sweet, in whom my joy must be. - -Now have I recounted unto you how that in the first instance I was -surprised and subdued by love, and was afterward grievously constrained -by great longing, and how my dear kinsman gave himself much trouble, -with the result that I was delivered from my trouble by my lady, who had -mercy on me, thanks be to her. And I will tell how that from that time I -went to and fro. Thenceforth I was happy even as you have heard, and -because of the joy which I had, I devised this ballad:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - In all the world is none so happy here - Nor is there any joy to match with mine, - Since she that hath no rival and no peer - Doth mercifully to my suit incline. - Her slave am I till death, for all my pain - In very truth hath met with guerdon meet: - She was my help on whom I called amain, - For she hath granted me her love so sweet. - - Fair queen, in whom all nobleness is clear, - Thou would'st not have me for thy presence pine: - Nay, bid me cry in every lover's ear, - "Thirsty was I for Love's immortal wine!" - Not all my weeping might the gift obtain, - Yet she, enthroned on beauty's mercy-seat, - Hath pardoned all: too soon did I complain - For she hath granted me her love so sweet. - - Now to delight returns the torrent drear - That of my mourning was the sorry sign: - Now am I joyous and of merry cheer, - More than aforetime in her grace divine. - Love bade me follow in his chosen train - Where gladness walks beside my lady's feet, - Nor any loss is mingled with my gain, - For she hath granted me her love so sweet. - - Princess of love, my sorrow I disdain - Since out of mourning cometh joy complete - By grace of her who is love's suzerain, - For she hath granted me her love so sweet. - -So I demeaned me prudently and wisely, and I desired to have apparel and -horses and beautiful things in much plenty, and great pains did I take -to make me acquainted with all matters which become honest folk, and, as -far as I was able, I avoided those which are unworthy, and I always had -the desire to increase my fame, to the end that my lady might hold -herself loved of a brave man. Thus I spared no pains to become rich, in -order to dispense freely, and it appeared as if I made no count of -riches. - -But to shorten my story, I tell you truly that none other thought had I -than to follow in the path of true lovers, and oft, thank God, did I -come to enjoy the welcome favours the which Love and Dames dispense to -those who are faithful to them, for I well knew how to compass this, -although it became expedient to be very careful where I saw my sweet -goddess each week, so that no one, save those who were trusted, should -come to know of it. And the first time that I returned to her, I took -her this new ballad, the which greatly pleased her, and I brought back -one from her. - - - -BALLAD - - - Command of me, my Lady and my queen, - All thy good pleasure, as I were thy slave, - Which I shall do with glad and humble mien - That whatsoe'er thou willest, thou may'st have. - I owe no less - Being bound thereto for so great pleasantness, - More than to other lovers may betide: - For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside. - - Thy love delivered me from dule and teen, - All that was needful to my soul it gave: - Is there not here in truth good reason seen - Thy love should rule the heart thy love did save? - Ah, what mistress - So guerdoneth her servant with largess - Of love's delight? The rest have I denied, - For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside. - - Since such a harvest of reward I glean, - Love in my heart hath risen like a wave: - Thy slave am I, as I thy slave have been, - While life shall last. Ah, damsel bright and brave, - Sweet patroness - Of spirit and strength, and lady of noblesse, - All other comfort doth my heart deride, - For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside. - - Most dear princess - Of joy thou art the fount, as I confess: - I thirst no longer, but am satisfied, - For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside. - -Ere I parted from this very sweet being, I received an answer to my -ballad, the which gave me more than a little very ardent rapture, for -the enchanting fair one, whilst reading it, put her arms about my neck. -And here it is:-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Ever blessed be the day, - Be the place and be the dwelling, - That hath ended my delay, - Shown the truth I shrank from telling. - Dear friend, behold - My love is yours, a costlier gift than gold: - To Love be praise, that first the bond hath knit, - For I am filled with perfect joy from it. - - Since I yielded to thy sway - When thy heart with grief was swelling, - Swiftly speeding as he may - Joy is come, my care dispelling: - Now am I bold - To give thee love, that guerdons manifold - May heal thee from thy sorrow every whit, - For I am filled with perfect joy from it. - - So my soul, with God for stay, - The new blissful years foretelling, - Finds in thee, for whom I pray, - Grace and gladness all excelling. - I that of old - Gave thee but sorry cheer and comfort cold, - Am straightway turned to serve thee, as is fit, - For I am filled with perfect joy from it. - - When I had told - My love, my heart was yours to have and hold: - To grief I yield not, nor to blame submit, - For I am filled with perfect joy from it. - -In suchwise was happiness granted to me, even as you hear, and I pursued -it with joy and gladness. But fortune, who is ready, whensoe'er she can, -to do harm to lovers, straightway thought to do me very grievous hurt, -as I will relate in a few words. - -It chanced, in a short while, that the lady who knew of our love, and -who concealed our doings, had business at home, from the which loss -would happen to her inheritance if she did not go there forthwith, -wherefore, sad and sorrowful, she departed from the Court. And as for -me, this caused me great grief, for I well knew that my lady would essay -naught without her. And on this account I was much distressed, for, -certes, I could in nowise rest without seeing her. And my lady knew this -well, and I am persuaded that it was not otherwise with her. So she then -bethought her of a lady who had likewise been in her service all her -life, and who was prudent and discreet, and good, loyal, and reserved, -although no longer did she live at Court. So she resolved to inquire of -her if she was willing to return. Therefore without delay she wrote this -letter to her, and received an answer from her. - - - -_The Duchess_ - - - _To my very dear and good friend_, - _The Lady of La Tour_. - - _Very dear and kind Friend_,--Concerning my estate, be pleased - to know that I am in health, and I pray God to grant the same to - you. I write to you because of the desire which I have to see - you, and to speak with you, for I have not forgotten the good - and faithful service which you have alway rendered me, for the - which I hold myself so much bounden to you, that I can never - repay it. And be sure that you have a friend in me, and you can - put this to the proof whensoe'er you will. Dear lady and friend, - you well know how that I am controlled, and held in great - subjection and fear, and am harshly treated, and that my lot is - a very hard one, and allows me but little happiness, and that I - have no friend to whom I can make plaint and tell my secret - thoughts, the which I would not make confession of to any save - to you, from whom I would not hide aught any more than I would - from my confessor, for I know you to be so loyal, that I can - trust in you. You must know, therefore, that it is a very - grievous sorrow to a young heart always to live in disquiet, and - devoid of happiness. So I would that you were near me, and I - would tell you of very pleasing things, concerning the which, - with good reason, I do not write to you. And thus I have great - need of your aid and good counsel, wherefore I pray you, by all - the love you bear me, that, as soon as you have read this - letter, you so arrange your affairs that you may be ready to - come to me within a week from this, and I will send to fetch you - with all due honour. And do not be in anywise troubled about - leaving your household, for I pledge you my faith to make so - liberal recompense, that it will alway be to the advantage of - you and yours. And I pray you not to fail me in this, and to - send me, by the bearer of this letter, your favourable reply. I - commend me to your daughter-in-law. Dear, kind friend, may the - Holy Spirit have you in His keeping. - - _Written in my Castle, the eighth day of January._ - -And my lady despatched a messenger, and sent this letter to the lady -whom she wholly regarded as her friend, and whom she much loved. And she -sent a reply, the which disquieted me, for it was very much to my -prejudice, and in this manner did she counsel her:-- - - _My very revered Lady_,--In the first place I send you my very - humble respects, and may it please you to know that I have - received your very loving and tender letter, for the which, with - all my unworthy heart, I thank you, and in the which you do me - so great honour as to have in remembrance the trivial services, - in nowise worthy of your honoured and noble self, which I - rendered you in the past, and thus I am beholden to you more - than I can ever deserve. As concerns my going to you at this - present, I very humbly beseech you, my very dear Lady, to hold - me excused, for, on my faith, my daughter is so grievously sick - that on no account can I leave her, and God knows how I am - troubled because of her sickness. But since, my very revered - Lady, I cannot hold speech with you as soon as I would, and I am - bound to counsel you as to your conduct, as one who has been - under my guidance from childhood until now, however unworthy I - have been of this, methinks I should be wrong if I kept silence - touching that which I knew might bring any trouble upon you if I - failed to make it known to you. Wherefore, dear Lady, I write - what follows, for the which I very humbly entreat of you in no - way to bear me ill-will, for you may be assured that very great - love, and the desire that your great renown and honour may ever - increase, moves me to this. My Lady, I have heard certain - rumours touching your conduct which grieve me from the bottom of - my heart because of the fear I have of the ruin of your good - name, to the which, as it seems to me, they tend, for it is - right and fitting for every princess and high-born lady, since - she is exalted in honour and estate above others, to exceed all - others in goodness, wisdom, manners, disposition, and behaviour, - to the end that she may be an ensample by the which other dames, - and even all womankind, should regulate their conduct. And thus - it is meet that she be devout toward God, and have a tranquil, - gentle, and calm demeanour, and in her diversions be restrained - and without excess, that she laugh with moderation and not - without cause, and have a stately carriage, modest look, and - dignified bearing, with a kindly response and a courteous word - for every one, her dress and attire rich but not too affected, - gracious in her welcome of strangers, in speech restrained and - not too familiar, not hasty in judgment or fickle, never - appearing harsh, capricious, or ill-humoured, or too difficult - to serve, humane and kind to her waiting-women and servants, not - too haughty, in giving bountiful within reason, knowing how to - recognise those who are the most worthy in goodness and - prudence, and her best servants, and to draw all these to her, - and recompense them according to their deserts, not trusting or - putting faith in flatterers, but recognising them, and driving - them from her, not lightly believing gossip, not given to the - habit of whispering either to stranger or to intimate friend in - any secret or solitary place, and in particular not to any of - her retainers or serving-women, so that none may be able to - think that he knows more than another of her private affairs, - never saying in jest to any one whomsoever, in the presence of - others, aught which may not be understood of all, so that those - hearing it may not imagine there to be some foolish secret - between them, and keeping herself neither too much confined to - her chamber, or to herself, nor too much in the sight of other - folk, but sometimes retiring, and at other times appearing - before others. And although the foregoing conditions, and all - other usages befitting a noble princess, were aforetime observed - by you, you now act quite otherwise, it is said, for you amuse - yourself much more, and have become more communicative and - mirthful than was your wont, and it is when the outward signs - are changed, that one usually judges the disposition to be - altered, and now you desire to be alone, and withdrawn from - others save one or two of your waiting-women, and some of your - dependants, with whom, even in the presence of others, you - consult privately, and titter, and talk secretly, as if you well - understood one another, and naught but the company of such - pleases you, and the others can in nowise serve you to your - liking, the which things and doings arouse envy in your other - servants, and cause them to think that your heart is enamoured - of some one. Ah, my very sweet Lady, for God's sake remember who - you are, and the high position to which God has raised you, and - consent not, for the sake of any foolish pleasure, to be - forgetful of your soul and your honour, and do not put trust in - the vain fancy which many young women have, who permit - themselves to believe that there is no wrong in loving with - tender passion provided this is not accompanied by any wrongful - act (and I am convinced that you would prefer death to this), - and that it makes life more pleasurable, and that one thus makes - a man gallant and renowned for aye. Ah, my dear Lady, it is - quite the reverse, and for God's sake do not deceive yourself, - or let yourself be deceived as to this, and take warning from - such noble ladies as you have seen in your time (and such there - are), who, through being merely suspected of such love, have, - without the truth ever becoming known, on this account lost both - honour and life. And yet on my soul I am satisfied that they had - neither sinned nor done aught that was wrong. Ne'ertheless their - children have seen them reproached and thought lightly of. And - however dishonourable such foolish love is in any woman, be she - rich or poor, it is still much more unbecoming and harmful in a - princess or a high-born lady, and the more so the more exalted - she is, and the reason of this is just, for the fame of a - princess extends everywhere, and hence, if there is any stain on - her good name, it is more known of in foreign lands than in the - case of simple folk, and, moreover, gives rise to doubts - concerning their offspring, who are destined to be rulers in the - land, and the princes of other folk. And it is a great - misfortune when there is any suspicion that they are not the - rightful heirs, and much trouble may come of it, for even if - there has been no wrong-doing, this will in nowise be believed - by those who have but heard it reported, "This lady is in love." - And because of a few tender glances, perchance given - thoughtlessly and without evil intent, malicious tongues will - pass judgment, and will add things about it the which were never - done or thought of, and thus the story, the which is never - diminished, but is ever being added to, passes from mouth to - mouth. And thus it is the more necessary for a noble lady than - for other women to pay great attention to all her words and ways - and demeanour, and the reason of this is, that, in the presence - of a noble lady, every one pays attention to her, both to hear - what she will say, and also to attentively take note of all her - doings. And thus the lady cannot look, speak, laugh, or jest, - without all being put together, discussed, and borne in mind of - many, and then reported broadcast. Bethink you, therefore, my - very dear Lady, that it may have a very bad appearance when a - high-born lady, and indeed any woman, becomes gay and mirthful, - and willing to listen to amorous discourse, more than is her - wont, and then, when for any reason she changes her mind, of a - sudden becomes discontented, ungracious, and on her defence, and - no one can serve her to her satisfaction, and she takes no - trouble about her dress or apparel. Certes, folk then say that - she must have been in love, but is so no longer. My Lady, this - is in nowise demeanour becoming to a lady, for, whate'er may be - her intentions, she should alway have a care so to demean and - conduct herself, that such judgments cannot be passed on her, - and although it may well be that, in a matter of love, it is - difficult to maintain such moderation, the most sure way to this - end is to wholly eschew and shun it. Thus you may know, dear - Lady, that every noble lady, and every other woman likewise, - should be far more desirous to acquire a fair name than any - other treasure, for this reflects honour on her, and ever dures - to her and her children. Revered Lady, as I have erewhile - observed, I wholly realise and bear in mind that the influence - which can dispose a young woman to incline to such love, is that - youth, and ease, and indolence cause her to say to herself, "You - are young, you must enjoy yourself, you can well love without - wrong-doing, and this is in nowise evil when it is without sin, - you will make a man valiant, no one will know of it, you will - live more merrily because of it, and you will have won a true - servant and a loyal friend, and, therefore, all your desire." - Ah, my Lady, for God's sake have a care that you be not deceived - by such foolish fancies; for, as far as concerns happiness, be - assured that in love affairs there is an hundred thousand times - more of grief, of care, and of perilous risk, especially for the - ladies, than there is of happiness. Moreover, whiles that love - of itself brings in its train many divers troubles, the fear of - the loss of honour, and that this may become known (the which - makes such pleasure dearly bought), continually haunts the mind. - And as to saying, "There can be no harm in this, since it will - not result in sin," alas, my Lady, no one can by any means be so - sure of herself as to be certain that, however good her - resolution may be, she will alway keep herself in restraint in - the matter of love made in this wise, or that it will not be - discovered, as I have said before. Of a truth, this is not - possible, for never is there fire without smoke, but there is - often smoke without fire. And to say, "I shall make a man - valiant," certes, I declare that it is very great folly to ruin - oneself in order to advance another, even if he be made brave - thereby, and surely does she bring ruin upon herself who - degrades herself for the sake of exalting another. And as to - saying, "I shall have gained a true friend and servant," good - God! in what manner could such a friend or servant advantage a - lady? For if she were in any trouble, he would not dare concern - himself in anywise on her behalf, for fear of her dishonour. - Therefore how could such a servant, who would not risk himself - in her service, be of profit to her? And though there are some - who say they serve their ladies when that they achieve great - things, either in arms or in other ways, I say that they serve - themselves, since the honour and the profit of it remains to - them, and in nowise to the lady. And yet again, my Lady, if you - or any other would make excuse by saying, "Mine is a sad lot, - the which allows me but little freedom and happiness, and - because of this I can, without wrong-doing, have pleasure in - another in order to dispel melancholy and to pass the time," - assuredly never, with submission to your honoured self and all - others who speak thus, does such excuse avail aught, for very - foolish is he who sets fire to his own house in order to burn - that of his neighbour, but she who bears with such a husband - patiently, and without discrediting herself, so much the more - increases the good renown of herself and of her honour. And as - to having pleasure, certes a noble lady, and indeed every woman, - can, if she will, find, without such love as this, enough of - lawful and fitting pleasures to the which to give herself up, - and with the which to pass the time without melancholy. For - those who have children, what more agreeable or delightful - pleasure can be desired than to see them oft, and to have a care - that they are well nourished and instructed as befits their - noble birth and estate, and to train the daughters in suchwise - that from childhood they may, from the example of good company, - form the habit of living in a proper and seemly manner? But if - the mother is not prudent in all ways, what sort of an ensample - is she, alas, to the daughters? And for those who have no - children, certes it is not unworthy of any noble lady, after she - has had care for her household, to betake her to some work, in - order to avoid idleness, either working fine linen or silken - apparel with rare broidery, or other things of the which she can - make fitting use, and such occupations are wise, and prevent - idle thoughts. But in nowise do I say that a young and noble - lady may not rightly divert herself, and laugh, and play, at - seasonable times, even in the presence of lords and gentlemen, - or that she may not, so far as is befitting to her position, do - honour to strangers, to each one according to his rank, but this - should be done so soberly, and in such modest fashion, that - there be not a single glance, or laugh, or word, the which is - not under due restraint, and within proper bounds, and she - should ever be on her guard that it may not be possible to - discover in her aught that is unworthy or unseemly, either in - word, look, or behaviour. Ah, God! If every noble lady, and in - truth every woman, rightly knew how such virtuous demeanour - becomes her, the more would she be at pains to possess this - adornment rather than any other whatsoever, for no precious - jewel is there which can adorn her so well. And further, my very - dear Lady, it remains to speak of the perils and difficulties - which accompany such love, the which are without number. The - first and greatest is that it angers God, and then if the - husband or kinsfolk discover it, the woman is ruined, or falls - under reproach, and never after has she any happiness. And - again, even if this does not come to pass, let us consider the - disposition of lovers, for though all were loyal, secret, and - truthful (the which they by no means are, since it is well known - that they are generally faithless, and, in order to deceive the - ladies, say that which they neither think on nor would do), - ne'ertheless of a surety it is true that the ardour of such love - does not dure for long, even with the most loyal. Ah, dear Lady! - be warned that truly you cannot conceive the troublous thought - which dwells in her breast when it comes to pass that this love - is at an end, and the lady, who has been blinded by the - environment of foolish delight, grievously repents her when she - perceives and meditates on the distractions and the divers - perils the which she has ofttimes encountered, and how much she - would, whatever it had cost her, that this had never chanced to - her, and that she could not be thus reproached. And, moreover, - you and every lady can see what folly it is to put one's person - and one's honour at the mercy of the tongues, and in the power, - of such servants, for they call themselves servants, although, - for the most part, the ending of the service is such that, - although they have made promise unto you, and have sworn, to - keep the secret, they in no wise hold their peace concerning it, - and in the end the ladies are ofttimes left with the reproach of - such love, and the gossip of folk concerning it, or, at the very - least, with the fear and dread in their hearts that those very - ones in whom they have put their trust, talk of it, and make - boast of it, to any one else who knows of the affair, and thus - they are delivered over from freedom to bondage, and behold the - end of such love! Do you not perceive, my Lady, that it seems to - these servants to be greatly to their credit to say, and to make - boast, that they are, or have been, loved of a very noble - mistress, or a woman of high rank, and how that they suppress - the truth concerning it? But God knows how they lie, and may He - grant that, as regards you, my Lady, you may know it well, for - you will have need to bear it in mind. And since, my Lady, you - love ballads and ditties, I send you one touching on this - subject, written by a clever master, if you will do me the - favour to take notice of it. And the servants, too, who know - your secret, and whom it behoves you to trust, think you, i' - faith, that they keep silence concerning this, albeit you have - made them swear to do so? Certes, the greater number of them are - such that they would be very much vexed if it were not noised - abroad that they have much greater intimacy and authority with - you than have the others, and if they do not openly proclaim - your secrets, they hint at them by means of divers covert signs, - the which they think are duly observed. Good God, what a slave - is the lady, and any other woman in the like case, who dares not - reprove or blame her serving men or women, even if she sees that - they behave them very ill, for that she perceives herself to be - in their power, and that they have risen up against her in such - arrogance that she dares not utter a word, and is thus - constrained to endure at their hands that which she would not - endure from any other! And what, think you, do those say who see - and pay heed to this? These only pay attention to that which - they see, and be sure that they ofttimes whisper it abroad, and - if it chances that the lady is angered, or sends away her - servant, God knows that all will be revealed, and made known - everywhere. And yet it ofttimes happens that they are, and have - been, the means and the cause of bringing into being this love, - the which they have encouraged with zeal and great diligence, in - order to gain for themselves either gifts, or offices, or other - emoluments. Very honoured Lady, what shall I say concerning - this? Be assured that as soon as one sifts the matter to the - bottom, one discovers all the mischievous perils which this - amorous life entails; and do not doubt this, for so it is. And - because of this, very dear Lady, do not cast yourself into such - peril, and if you have any thought of it, for God's sake - withdraw from it before greater evil to you comes of it, for - better is it to do this betimes than late, and late than never, - and already you can see what will be said about it if that you - persevere in your unwonted ways, when even now they are - perceived, and in consequence of this are talked of in many - places. Thus I know not what further to write to you, save that, - to the utmost of my power, I humbly entreat of you not to take - this from me in bad part, but may it please you to be assured of - the good intent which constrains me to say it, and very much - rather would I do my duty by loyally admonishing you, and - causing you to be an-angered, than either counsel you to your - ruin, or keep silence concerning it in order to have your - goodwill. My Lady, be pleased to pay heed to my ballad, the - which I enclose herewith. Very honoured Princess, and my dear - Lady, I pray God to give you a happy and long life, and - paradise.--Written at La Tour, this 18th day of January - - Your very humble servant, - - _Sebille de Monthault_, Lady of La Tour. - - - -BALLAD - - - Most noble ladies, cherish your fair fame, - And for God's love the contrary eschew - Of good report, lest thus you come to blame: - Nor make your choice of all acquaintance new. - For some might tell (such evil tongues have they), - How wanton manners in your life they see, - Though never yet in any fault you lay: - And from such faithless rascals keep you free. - - For little would it serve to bear the name - Of one whom many love, yet find for due - Nought but dishonour that from slanderers came - Telling abroad how in your works they knew - Your wantonness: so well it is alway - To hold aloof, ere any trial be, - From ill that follows after foolish play, - And from such faithless rascals keep you free. - - Nay, be ye rather armed against the same - With perfect wit, so tirelessly they sue - To stain your honour, whence full often shame - Comes without cause, yet they to pleasure you - Feign courtesy: my warning may not stay, - So oft I hear how those ye hold in fee - Blame you no less: withdraw from these, I pray, - And from such faithless rascals keep you free. - - Most noble ladies! be not wroth to-day - That I have ever counselled you to flee - These traitors: trust me, though no more I say, - And from such faithless rascals keep you free. - -In such wise did the Lady of La Tour, who made me very sad by the letter -the which she wrote, make answer to my Lady, who was sore dismayed by it -albeit she was not displeased with her on account of it, but said -forthwith, "Ah! if it had pleased our lord that she had been alway with -me, she would have exhorted me wisely, and thus I should not have been -beguiled by evil counsel, but ne'ertheless I shall abandon this, and -abide me by her counsel, for I well perceive the grievous peril which -pertains to a life of love, but it is meet that he who is oft in my -thoughts should abandon it likewise." Then she wrote a letter to me, -even as is here set forth. - - - -_Sealed Letter_ - - - _My good Friend_,--It is indeed true that foolish love, the - which deceives many, and the sincere pity which I had for your - plaint, have led me much to forget that which I ought ever to - have had in remembrance, the which is, to preserve my soul and - mine honour. And I have fully come to see how that I have - already exposed myself to many great dangers and perils in order - to fulfil your youthful wishes and mine own. Thank God, however, - that there has been no evil in it, nor ever will be as long as I - live! Yet the world would in nowise believe this if any ill - chance befell me, from the which may God preserve me! And I well - perceive that whosoe'er pursues foolish love, is in nowise - master of himself or of his demeanour, so that it comes to pass - that he may be discovered, as you can see by the long letter - which the good and prudent woman, the Lady of La Tour, has - written to me, the which I send you in order that you may - perceive the reason which constrains me to withdraw from it. - For, when I gave myself up to this love, I took no thought for - the perils into the which I rushed, but this wise lady has - opened mine eyes to examine and consider my doings, and if I do - this not, I shall be defamed and ruined, and this, dear friend, - you could in nowise desire. And because of this, I beseech you - to withdraw from it, and know that I ask this of you in spite of - my love, and with my eyes full of tears, for none could be more - loved than I love you. Therefore in nowise believe that this - comes to pass through want of love, for I swear to you on my - portion in Paradise, and make promise to you by every oath that - can be made, that, as long as I live, you shall be my only - friend, and you alone will I love alway, if this will content - you, neither do I withdraw my love from you, for you have in - nowise deserved this, nor could my heart, which loves you, - consent to it, but it at least behoves you to cease from seeing - me, because of the harm which might come to me through it, the - which, I well know, will be very grievous to you, and full of - sorrow, but whiles that your heart may be sad about it, in - nowise will mine be happy. And I know not what more to say to - you, nor can I write more, for my desolate heart, my eyes, and - my face are suffused with tears, and I bid you farewell, my - sweet Love. - - Your sorrowing Lady. - -And when that I had read this sad letter, my pulse and my colour failed -me, and I became like unto one dead, and it was long ere I came to -myself again, for I swooned because of the grief which I felt to hear -that it was needful for me to keep away from my lady. Never had such a -sorrow chanced to me, and so sorely did I weep because of this, that my -heart was well nigh broken. And I read the long letter the which had set -this thing agoing, and God knows how, when I read it, I cursed the old -lady who had sent it. I would have drowned her but that this was not -possible. And when I had longwhiles borne this grievous sorrow without -that it was diminished, I wrote this letter, moistening it with my -tears. - - - -_To the most noble of ladies_. - - - Alas, my sweet and honoured Lady, my peerless love whom I serve, - fear, obey, and worship! Where can I find words sufficing to - declare unto you, and to make you wholly to know, my grievous - sorrow? Tears and weeping so dull my mind and my memory, that I - know not where I am, or what I do. Ah, my Lady! you have indeed - discomforted me by your cruel letter, the which tells me that it - behoves me to keep away from you! Certes it is indeed true, - whatsoe'er the Lady of La Tour says of Lovers, that I am more to - you than aught that you have in the world beside, and that I - have made promise unto you (the which I will keep truly all my - life), that, as far as in me lies, I will obey you in all - things, without doing aught that is contrary to your wishes. But - when your wish is that I withdraw me from this, I cannot obey, - for I have abandoned my life to it. Thus it is not in my power - to give it up, even if I die for this. And, dear Lady, as to - obeying your command that I see you no more, if it is your - pleasure that it be alway thus, it is meet that I resist this - with all my might, since if you bid me do that which would kill - me or drive me mad, I know of a truth that in this I cannot - obey. And so that you may perceive that I desire your honour - more than does she who has written so much to you concerning it, - and to prevent any suspicion that you are the cause of my death, - I shall go beyond the seas to end my days, and nevermore shall I - return from thence, and I pledge you my faith that you will find - this to be so. Alas! where has this one, in order to compass my - ruin, discovered that already there is rumour and talk of our - love? Truly she must have imagined it. Saving her reverence, it - is not possible, for naught was ever conducted more prudently or - secretly than, up to this present, our sweet love has been, and - alway will be if God wills. For God knows that I would rather - suffer death than do aught that would cause you dishonour. Ah, - my Lady, my Lady! Shall I never see you again? If this must be - so, God grant that I may lose my sight, and that I may never - again look on anything, for naught beside could delight me. How - could my heart dure and remain alive when it no longer has the - joy the which it receives when it is nigh unto yours? Ah, woe is - me! This thought, alas, is a lance which pierces right through - my sorrowful heart. It cannot be that I must thus lose, and - without cause, the tender comfort, the amorous delights, the - pleasing glances, and the winsome words, the which I receive - from you, and of which the sweet remembrance, which remained in - my thoughts with the hope of their renewal, made me more - gladsome and contented than aught beside. And, my very sweet - Lady, since I must needs die without deserving it, one favour - only do I beg of you, for the sake of all the love your tender - and noble heart erewhiles had for me, and do not be so cruel to - your poor servant as to deny it to him, the which is that, ere I - take leave of you for ever, I may for once have speech with you, - so that I may bid you farewell, and say adieu to all the - delights the which you have so lovingly bestowed on me, for - never, on my soul, have I thought on that which is evil, or - contrary to your desires. Alas, my Lady! Well do I know how you - do wrong to those desires, and unjustly cause them to endure - misfortune, for boldly do I declare that this farewell is in - nowise in accordance with their assent or wish. May this favour - be vouchsafed to me, dear Lady. And I know not what more to say - to you, but be assured that I shall obey you unto death. May it - please you to make known to me forthwith what you would have me - to do, and whether you would that I go beyond the seas as I have - said, or what is your pleasure. And be pleased to pardon me that - this letter is blotted with my tears, for, on my soul, it has - not been possible for me to restrain them whiles that I have - been writing it. Honoured Lady, I commend me to you more than I - know how to say, and I pray God to grant you all good things - that are to be desired.--Written in great grief, with tears and - weeping. - - Your poor lover, the most unhappy of men. - -And I sent this letter to my lady, and wept sorely whilst delivering it. -And I remained cast down, sad, and silent, making plaint unto myself. -And I said in my grief-- - - - -BALLAD - - - Ah, Death, Death, Death, to thee I make my prayer! - Come, rend me from this dolorous world apart! - Life lures no longer: since my lady fair - Would have me shun her, let my hapless heart - Be very prey to pain and sorrow's sword. - Gladness I leave and all delight for aye, - And thee alone, O Death, have I implored - Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye. - - Alas, alas, what doleful news is there! - Never to knight assailed with glaive or dart - Came heavier trouble than the woes I share, - I, who have gathered up in shame and smart - An evil greater than I may record: - Since now my love from all adventure high - Must needs withdraw, and death be my reward - Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye. - - Ah, lady of mine, can'st thou such hardness dare - And suffer me in anguish to depart - For love of thee? Yet Love must witness bear - Who knoweth no age can show, nor any art, - Servant more faithful both in deed and word - Among all lovers that he might espy: - But my mishaps a worser end afford - Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye. - - Ah, God of love, why sufferest thou, fair lord, - That thus in sorrow undeserved I die? - All things I leave, of all to be abhorred, - Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye. - -In such manner as I have told you did I write in answer to my Lady. And -when that she had opened my letter, and saw it so covered and defaced -and blurred with tears, certes it was told unto me that she was much -discomforted, and that as she read it, she wept so much, that the tears -ran down her face. And then, of her grace, she wrote back to me in great -haste, and charged the messenger that he lose no time in conveying the -letter duly. And he pledged him not to tarry by the way until he had -brought it to me. And the messenger hasted him all the night, and stayed -him not until that he was come at daybreak to the gate of the Castle. -Then he brought me the letter, the which calmed my grievous distress, -and banished my sorrow. And great need had I of this, for certes I was -like to die or to lose my reason. So listen now to the purport of the -letter which she sent, and of the which my heart had great joy. - - _To the noblest and best of all_, - _My true and loyal friend_. - - _My true, loyal, very kind and dear Friend_,--It is the fact - that, although I was fearful of losing mine honour, the which I - ought to dread above all things, as is counselled, as you have - been able to see, in the letter of the Lady of La Tour, to whom - I am much beholden for it (for certes I know that she has said - this for my well-being), it was against my wish that I wrote to - you, in my last letter, that which I made known to you therein, - for, my kind and gracious friend, I well perceive that Love - cannot suffer us to part from one another, and I repent me much - that I declared this unto you, for I know that you have had, and - still have, much sorrow because of this. Wherefore I pray you to - forgive me, and I beseech your pardon for it. And it much - grieves me that our good friend, your cousin, is not beside you - to cheer you. And I regret me that he is gone on so long a - journey. So by all the influence I may have over you, and by the - love you bear me, I entreat you in all things to possess your - mind in peace as aforetime, for greatly do I fear me that you - have become so sad, that I may not be in time to comfort you, - and that some sickness (from the which may God preserve you), - may overtake you. Therefore I shall have no ease until I have - news of you. So I write to you in great haste, beseeching you to - be cheerful and happy, for I have very good news to tell you, - and this is that our good friend, in whom we trust, will be here - within four days. So you shall come to see me, and I will keep - you advised concerning this, and we will welcome one another - heartily as heretofore. For, so help me God, even if it be my - ruin, I cannot part from you, and I have hope that, by God's - aid, our doings may be well hid, and also that you will alway - guard mine honour well, for on this I rely. My sweet and dear - Love, I pray God to give you perfect joy. Written in haste. - - Your true and loyal friend. - -And when I received this letter, I was wholly freed from my grief, and -no longer did I weep, but instead I praised God for this very good news. -And I answered the letter, and gave much thanks to my sweet lady, and I -further besought of her that I might see her right soon, so that I might -tell unto her the sorrow the which the letter I had received had caused -me. And I know not wherefore I should rehearse more of this matter, for -it is time for me to end. You have heard how that I had, without -dishonour, such joy of love as I desired, and I gainsay him who would -avouch that there was ever any wrong-doing or evil whatsoever in our -love, or that there was aught in it by the which honour was violated, -wherefore our love should be the more esteemed. Moreover I have told -unto you the pain and the grief which I endured aforetime, and how that -I persevered until my lady had pity on me. And now it is time this story -were ended, for if I rehearsed all the adventures, some pleasing, and -others painful, the which chanced to me in this love, and the evil and -the good which came to me of it, perchance I should become wearisome, -for I should have much to tell, and it would be a matter without end. -But, to sum up briefly, I tell you that I ofttimes afterward with great -delight saw the fair one in whom I put my trust, and joyously did I -receive from her, in large measure, loving comfort the which still -dwells in my memory. And for full two years did this dure, for she would -not let me depart from out her country, and right well did this please -me, for so ardent was I, that I cared for naught save to be near her. -Thus I bethink me that I resorted thither more than was fitting, so that -anger, stirred up by evil speaking, burst forth on account of our -doings, and because of this, I was troubled and ill-at-ease, for I could -not stay it, and thus I was no longer able to see my lady as was my -wont, the which grieved me sorely. Moreover I was blamed by friends, and -called recreant, in that I remained so much in retirement, and only -frequented jousts and tourneys and feasts which were held near by, and -not those at a distance. This, indeed, did not become one of noble -birth, and thus I should be quite the most despicable of my lineage if -that I remained there longer, and pursued not arms in many lands for to -win praise and renown. So spake my kinsfolk, and I felt assured that -they descanted to me thus for my good, but I feared me that it might be -displeasing to my lady to do this without her consent, and my heart was -exceeding sad. - -And I besought of her that she would so contrive, that I might have -speech with her, since, chiefly for the sake of her good name, it was -needful that I should depart thence for awhile, and assuredly might she -believe that never for a single day should I forget her, and thus I -would go into Spain, whatever might come of it, and it was better to do -this before worse happened to her. And moreover she should have in -remembrance that I had made promise unto her that, for love of her, I -would achieve so much, that in the end I should be known as a brave man. - -And so much did I talk, that she scarce uttered a word, and for very -short whiles did she remain, for at great risk was she come to a place -where I was. - -And there was much weeping and great dole and sad countenance at our -parting, and scarce would she consent that I should go to the wars. And -wetting her face and neck with tears, and kissing her in haste, I very -fervently commended her to God, and thus I commended me to her a -thousand times, and submitted myself to her will. And I made promise -unto her that wheresoe'er I went, I would send tidings unto her, and -thus she could send back word to me how it fared with her. - -And thus I departed, weeping and in sad case at leaving my beloved one. -And I joined a Spanish force, and was absent, and far from the fair one, -for the space of a year, and then I came back, being moved thereto by a -longing to see her. And when she heard of my return, she so contrived, -that I had speech with her without this being known of others. And -joyously was I received, and verily did we welcome one another heartily, -and rejoice over our reunion. - -Thus from time to time I went to meet her, but there was risk in my -having speech with her, and so she came stealthily, in fear and -trembling, for fear of being observed, by reason of which she was quite -cast down. Therefore when I saw her so distraught, much of my joy was -taken away, because of the peril to the which I perceived that she, for -my sake, exposed her honour, and in the which she placed herself. And -because of this, I undertook many journeys, and sailed beyond the seas -for fear of evil-speaking. And in the manner did I spend ten years, and -ofttimes did I go to and fro. And at times, when it was opportune, it -chanced that I saw my dear lady. - -And in suchwise did I explore many lands. And in a severe encounter I -was made a prisoner of war, at the which my lady was disquieted. Thus I -endured many misfortunes ere the ten years passed by. Even love brought -many upon me, and saved me not from them, for albeit I never, on my -soul, saw aught in my lady the which should have caused me to mistrust -her, jealousy, which is like unto madness, brewed for me such a potion, -that I became like unto one mad, for once, on my return from afar, I -bethought me, as soon as I saw her, that her heart was changed toward -me, and that, as it seemed to me, she had wholly cast me off, the which -filled my heart with such grief, that I was mad with rage. Thus all my -happiness was gone, and for longwhiles I could not calm or appease my -heart, the which was sorely troubled, and my lady was so displeased with -me on account of this, that for awhile I somewhat lost her favour. -Moreover, if I may venture to say so, I once saw her a little jealous, -the which distressed me much, for I knew not the reason of it, for God -knows that neither in thought nor in demeanour was I ever false to her, -nor did I so much as raise mine eyes to notice any other lady. But I -well perceived that he whose heart is wholly possessed of the passion of -love much needs become a prey to jealousy, for he who bears within him a -great and perfect love, can scarce restrain him from it. - -And many songs were written touching our affair, some sad, and some -joyous; and for divers occasions I devised ballads, and lays, and -plaints, and other conceits, of the which there was one that was joyous -amongst ten which were sad, for such is the wont of the foolish heart -which dissembles love; and my lady sent some to me in her turn when that -she was able. And our ditties eased our troubles when that we were far -from one another, for in such manner did we divert us in the hope of -coming by something better, however long this might be in the coming. - -And I have made known everything, from first to last, touching the love -from the which, for full ten years, I had very sad and painful thoughts, -but our love is in nowise ended, nor will it pass away until that our -bodies perish. But slanderers (whom may God confound, for there are too -many of them in the world) have forced me to abandon the fellowship of -her to whom I had made promise of my whole love. And in this she shall -not find me to fail. But I perceived that dishonour came to her because -of me; wherefore I hated my life which dured so long, for every one -gossiped about her. And in order to preserve her honour and her peace of -mind, I shrank from seeing her whom I loved above all, but ne'ertheless, -sorrowful and sad, I long made lament for that she was so blamed on my -account. But notwithstanding, my body, my goods, and all that I have to -bestow, are hers, and if it were needful, I would die for her, and this -is no fable. So I pray Almighty God to give her peace, and honour, and a -happy life, and perfect joy without end. And now my story is ended. - - - The Book called "The Duke of True Lovers" is set forth. - - - ---- - - - Printed by _Ballantyne, Hanson & Co._ - Edinburgh & London - - - - - - -THE MEDIEVAL LIBRARY - - - - UNDER THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF - SIR ISRAEL GOLLANCZ - Litt.D., F.B.A. - - - - - - - Presenting a selection of the choicest literary productions of - the Middle Ages in Europe--romances, religious works, poetry and - manners--and including many masterpieces recently rescued from - obscurity. - - Post 8vo, Brown Boards, 5s. net, unless otherwise stated. - - - - - ---- - - 1. THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS - - By _Christine de Pisan_; a French romance of the 15th century. - Translated into prose and verse with an introduction by _Alice - Kemp-Welch_, _Laurence Binyon_ and _E. R. D. Maclagan_. With 6 - photogravure plates after illuminations in the original MS. - - 2. THE TUMBLER OF OUR LADY & OTHER MIRACLES - - Mainly from a collection made by _Gautier de Coinci_, a monk of - St. Medard near Soissons; French, 13th century. Translated in - prose with an introduction by _Alice Kemp-Welch_. With 7 - photogravure plates after contemporary MSS. - - 3. THE CHATELAINE OF VERGI - - _Anonymous_; a French love-poem of the 13th century. Translated - into prose by _Alice Kemp-Welch_. With an introduction by Prof. - _L. Brandin_ and the original text in an Appendix. With 5 - photogravure plates after an ivory casket of the 14th century - now in the British Museum. - - 4. THE BABEES' BOOK: MEDIEVAL MANNERS for the YOUNG. - - From the Old English texts of Dr. Furnivall; 14th and 15th - centuries. Done into modern prose and verse with an introduction - and notes by _Edith Rickert_. With 6 photogravure plates after - illuminations in contemporary MSS. - - 5. THE DIVINE CONSOLATION of the BLESSED ANGELA da FOLIGNO. - - By the _Same_; Italian, 14th century. Translated in prose by _M. - G. Steegman_ and with an introduction by _Algar Thorold_. With - photo. front, after Pierantonio Mezzastris and 4 woodcuts after - the original edition of 1536. - - 6. THE LEGEND OF THE HOLY FINA, VIRGIN of S. GEMIGNANO. - - By _Fra Giovanni di Coppo_; Italian, 14th century. Translated in - prose with an introduction and notes by _M. Mansfield_. With the - original text and 5 photogravures after Benozzo Gozzoli, - Ghirlandaio, etc. - - 7. EARLY ENGLISH ROMANCES OF LOVE - - _Anonymous_; 13th, 14th and 15th centuries. Containing: 'Floris - and Blancheflour,' 'Sir Degrevant,' 'The Squire of Low Degree,' - etc. Done into modern prose with introduction and notes by - _Edith Rickert_. With 5 photogravures after contemporary MSS. - - 8. EARLY ENGLISH ROMANCES OF FRIENDSHIP - - _Anonymous_; 13th, 14th and 15th centuries. Containing: 'Amis - and Amiloun,' 'Sir Amadis,' 'The Tale of Gamelyn,' etc. Done - into modern prose with introduction and notes by _Edith - Rickert_. With 6 photogravure plates after contemporary MSS. - - 9. THE CELL OF SELF-KNOWLEDGE - - By _Richard of St. Victor_, _Walter Hilton_, _Margery Kempe_, - etc.; 7 English mystical treatises of the 14th cent. Edited with - introduction and notes by _Edmund G. Gardner_, M.A. With - coloured collotype frontispiece. - - 10. ANCIENT ENGLISH CHRISTMAS CAROLS - - _Traditional_; 1400-1700. Collected and arranged by _Edith - Rickert_ with intro., notes and glossary. With 8 photogravure - plates after missals of the 15th and 16th cents. _Price_ 7_s._ - 6_d._ net. - - 11. EIGHT TROBADOR POETS - - Containing _Bertran de Born_, _Bernart de Ventadorn_, _Guiraut - De Bornelh_, _Arnaut Daniel_, etc.; Provencal, 11th-13th - centuries. Selected and translated in prose with intros. and - notes by _Barbara Smythe_. With a coloured frontispiece and - decorative initials. - - 12. CLIGES - - By _Chretien de Troyes_; a French romance of the 13th century. - Translated in prose by _L. J. Gardiner, M.A._ With photo. front. - - 13. PEARL - - An English poem of the 14th century. Translated and edited by - _Sir Israel Gollancz_, Litt.D., F.B.A. With textual and - explanatory notes, glossary, photogravure frontispiece after - _Holman Hunt_ and 6 illustrations after the original MS. With - the _Olympia_ of _Boccaccio_ in an Appendix. _Price_ 7_s._ 6_d._ - net. - - 14. EARLY LIVES OF CHARLEMAGNE - - By _Eginhard_ and _The Monk of St. Gall._; German, 9th century. - Translated from the Latin and edited with introduction and notes - by Prof. _A. J. Grant_. With photogravure frontispiece. - - 15. THE CHRONICLE OF JOCELIN OF BRAKELOND - - By the _Same_; a picture of English social and monastic life in - the 12th century. Translated from the Latin and edited with - notes by _L. C. Jane_, M.A. With an introduction by _Cardinal - Gasquet_ and a photogravure frontispiece. - - 16. THE VISION OF PIERS THE PLOWMAN - - By _William Langland_; English, 14th century. Done into modern - metrical English with introduction and notes by Prof. _W. W. - Skeat_. With frontispiece after contemporary MS. - - - _Published by_ - CHATTO & WINDUS: 97 & 99 - ST. MARTIN'S LANE - LONDON, W.C. 2 - - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE -LOVERS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36737 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may -use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative -works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and -printed and given away - you may do practically _anything_ with public -domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, -especially commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in your possession. If -you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works. Nearly all the individual works -in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting free access to electronic -works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg(tm) works in compliance with -the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg(tm) name -associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this -agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full -Project Gutenberg(tm) License when you share it without charge with -others. - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg(tm) work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with - almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away - or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License - included with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can -be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying -any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a -work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on -the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs -1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg(tm) License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg(tm). - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg(tm) web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(tm) works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works -provided that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg(tm) works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(tm) - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) - works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. -YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, -BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN -PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND -ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR -ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES -EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(tm) -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg(tm) work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(tm) - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(tm)'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg(tm) and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(tm) -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg(tm) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg(tm) eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |