My face I wesh; then saw I weel
The bottom pavèd everydeal
With gravel, full of stonès sheen.1
The meadows softè, sote,2 and green,
Beat right upon the water side;
Full clear was then the morrow-tide,
And full attemper3 out of drede.1
Then gan I walken through the mead,
Downward aye in my playing
The river's sidè coösting.
And, when I had a while y-gone,
I saw a garden right anon
Full long and broad; and everydeal
Enclosed was, and wallèd weel
With highè wallès enbattailed,
Portrayed without, and well entailed
With many richè portraitures.
These trees were set, that I devise,
One from another in assise
Five fathom or six, I trowè so;
But they were high and great also;
And, for to keep out well the sun,
The croppès were so thick y-run,
And every branch in other knit,
And full of greenè leaves sit,
That sunnè might there none descend,
Lest the tender grasses shend."
There might men does and roes y-see,
And of squirrels full great plentee
From bough to bough alway leaping.
Conies there were also playing
That comen out of their clapers,8
Of sundry colours and maners,
And maden many a tourneying
Upon the freshè grass springing.
In places saw I wellès there
In which there no froggès were ;
And fair in shadow was every well;
But I ne can the number tell
About the brinkès of these wells,
And by the streamès over all else,
Sprang up the grass, as thick y-set
And softè as any velvet. . . .
There sprang the violet all new,
And fresh pervinkè1 rich of hue,
And flowers yellow, white, and red;
Such plenty grew there never in mead.
Full gay was all the ground, and quaint,2
And powdred, as men had it paint,
With many a fresh and sundry flower
That casten up full good savour.
I went on right hand and on left
About the place; it was not left
Till I had all the garden been
In the esters3 that men might seen.
And thus while I went in my play
The God of Love me followed aye,
Right as an hunter can abide1
The beast, till he seeth his tide
To shooten at goodness to the deer,
When that him needeth go no near.
And so befell, I rested me
Beside a well under a tree,
Which tree in France men call a pine;
But, sith the time of King Pepine,
Ne grew there tree in mannès sight
So fair, ne so well wox" in hight:
In all that yards so high was none.
And, springing in a marble stone,
Had nature set, the sooth9 to tell,
Under that pine-tree a well;
And on the border all without
Was written on the stone about
Letters small that saiden thus,—
Here starf1o the faire Narcissus.
LOVE'S COMMANDMENTS.
"Villainy at the beginning,
I woll," said Love, "over all thing
Thou leave, if thou wolt ne be
False and trespass against me.
2 Trim.
6 Advantage.
9 Truth.
3 Innermost parts.
7 Grown.
10 Perished.
I curse and blame generally
All them that loven villainy ;
For villany maketh villein,
And by his deeds a churl is seen.
These villains1 are without pitie,
Friendship, love, and all bountie.2
I n'ill3 receive to my servise
Them that been villains of emprise.*
But understond in thine entent,
This is not mine intendement,5
To clepè no wight in no ages
Only gentle for his linages ;7
But whoso is virtuous
And in his port not outrageous,
When such one thou seest thee beforn,8
Though he be not gentle born,
Thou mayest well sayn this in soth
That he is gentle, because he doth
As longeth to a gentleman. . . .
For nothing eke thy tongue apply
To speake words of ribaldry.
To villain speech in no degree
Let never thy lip unbounden be.
For I nought hold him, in good faith,
Curteis9 that foulè wordès saith.
And all women serve and praise,
And to thy power their honour raise.
And, if that any mis-sayere
Despise women, that thou mayst hear,
Blame him, and bid him hold him still.
And set thy might and all thy will
Women and ladies for to please,
And to do thing that may them ease,
That they ever speak good of thee,
For so thou mayst best praisèd be....
And alway with good cheer
Thou give, if that thou have richesse ;
And, if thou have not, spend the less.
Alway be merry if thou may,
But waste not thy good alway.
Have hat of flowers fresh as May,
Chaplet of roses of Whitsunday..
2 Kindliness.
* Meaning.
8 Before.
1 The reverse of gentlemen.
3 Ne will will not.
4 Of low calling.
7 Descent.
10 Evil speaker.
Alway in heartè I rede1 thee
Glad and merry for to be,
And be as joyful as thou can:
Love hath no joy of sorrowful man.
If ever thou knew of love distress,
Thou shalt mo2 learn in that sickness;
And thus enduring shalt thou lie,
And rise on morrow up early
Out of thy bed, and harness thee
Ere ever dawning thou mayst see.
All privily then shalt thou gone,
Whatwhither it be, thy self alone,
For rain or hail, for snow, for sleet,
Thither she dwelleth that is so sweet.
The which may fall asleepè be,
And thinketh but little upon thee...
Women well ought pity to take
Of them that sorrowen for their sake.
FROM THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF.
When that Phoebus his chair of gold so high
Had whirled up the starry sky aloft,
And in the Bull was entered certainly;
When showers sweet of rain descended soft,
Causing the ground feole1 times and oft
Up for to give many a wholesome air;
And every plainè was y-clothèd fair
With newè green; and maketh smallè flowers
To springen here and there in field and mead :
So very good and wholesome be the showers
That it reneweth that was old and dead
In winter time; and out of every seed
Springeth the herbe, so that every wight5
Of this season wexeth glad and light;
And I, so gladde of the season sweet,
Was happèd1 thus:-Upon a certain night,
As I lay in my bed, sleep full unmeet
Was unto me; but why that I ne might
Rest I ne wist, for there n'as earthly wight,
As I suppose, had more heartè's ease
Than I, for I n'ad sickness nor disease.
Wherefore I marvel greatly of myself
That I so long withouten sleepè lay.
And up I rose three hours after twelf,
About the springing of the day.2
And on I put my gear and mine array,
And to a pleasant grovè I gan pass
Long ere the sunnè bright up-risen was.
In which were oakès great, straight as a line,
Under the which the grass so fresh of hue
Was newly sprong; and an eight foot or nine
Every tree well fro his fellow grew,
With branches broad laden with leavès new,
That sprongen out agen3 the sunnè-sheen,
Some very red, and some a glad light green.
Which as methought was right a pleasant sight;
And eke the birdès' songè for to hear
Would have rejoiced any earthly wight.
And I, that couth1 not yet in no manere
Heare the nightingale of all the year,
Full busily hearkenèd with heart and ear,
If I her voice perceive could anywhere.
And at the last a path of little brede
I found, that greatly had not used be;
For it forgrowen was with grass and weed,
That well unneth' a wightè might it see.
Thought I," This path somewhither goeth, pardé !"
And so I followèd, till it me brought
To right a pleasant herber well y-wrought,
That was y-benchèd; and with turfès new
Freshly y-turved, whereof the greenè grass
So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hue,
That most like unto green wool wot I it was.
1 Chanced. 2 Line of imperfect measure in the copies.
4 Had not been able. 5 Breadth. 6 Overgrown.
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