The Book of the Duchess

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THE PROEM

1	I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
2	How that I live, for day ne nighte
3	I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
4	I have so many an ydel thoght
5	Purely for defaute of slepe
6	That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
7	Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
8	Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
9	Al is y-liche good to me --
10	Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
11	For I have feling in no-thinge,
12	But, as it were, a mased thing,
13	Alway in point to falle a-doun;
14	For sorwful imaginacioun
15	Is alway hoolly in my minde.
16	And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
17	Hit were to liven in this wyse;
18	For nature wolde nat suffyse
19	To noon erthely creature
20	Not longe tyme to endure
21	Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;
22	And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,
23	Slepe; and thus melancolye
24	And dreed I have for to dye,
25	Defaute of slepe and hevinesse
26	Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,
27	That I have lost al lustihede.
28	Suche fantasies ben in myn hede
29	So I not what is best to do.
30	But men myght axe me, why soo
31	I may not slepe, and what me is?
32	But natheles, who aske this
33	Leseth his asking trewely.
34	My-selven can not telle why
35	The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,
36	I holde hit be a siknesse
37	That I have suffred this eight yere,
38	And yet my bote is never the nere;
39	For ther is phisicien but oon,
40	That may me hele; but that is doon.
41	Passe we over until eft;
42	That wil not be, moot nede be left;
43	Our first matere is good to kepe.
44	So whan I saw I might not slepe,
45	Til now late, this other night,
46	Upon my bedde I sat upright
47	And bad oon reche me a book,
48	A romaunce, and he hit me took
49	To rede and dryve the night away;
50	For me thoghte it better play
51	Then playen either at chesse or tables.
52	And in this boke were writen fables
53	That clerkes hadde, in olde tyme,
54	And other poets, put in ryme
55	To rede, and for to be in minde
56	Whyl men loved the lawe of kinde.
57	This book ne spak but of such thinges,
58	Of quenes lyves, and of kinges,
59	And many othere thinges smale.
60	Amonge al this I fond a tale
61	That me thoughte a wonder thing.
62	This was the tale: There was a king
63	That hight Seys, and hadde a wyf,
64	The beste that mighte bere lyf;
65	And this quene hight Alcyone.
66	So hit befel, therafter sone,
67	This king wolde wenden over see.
68	To tellen shortly, whan that he
69	Was in the see, thus in this wyse,
70	Soche a tempest gan to ryse
71	That brak hir mast, and made it falle,
72	And clefte her ship, and dreinte hem alle,
73	That never was founden, as it telles,
74	Bord ne man, ne nothing elles.
75	Right thus this king Seys loste his lyf.
76	Now for to speken of his wife: --
77	This lady, that was left at home,
78	Hath wonder, that the king ne come
79	Hoom, for hit was a longe terme.
80	Anon her herte gan to erme;
81	And for that hir thoughte evermo
82	Hit was not wel he dwelte so,
83	She longed so after the king
84	That certes, hit were a pitous thing
85	To telle hir hertely sorwful lyf
86	That hadde, alas! this noble wyfe;
87	For him she loved alderbest.
88	Anon she sente bothe eest and west
89	To seke him, but they founde nought.
90	'Alas!' quoth she, 'that I was wrought!
91	And wher my lord, my love, be deed?
92	Certes, I nil never ete breed,
93	I make a-vowe to my god here,
94	But I mowe of my lord here!'
95	Such sorwe this lady to her took
96	That trewely I, which made this book,
97	Had swich pite and swich rowthe
98	To rede hir sorwe, that, by my trowthe,
99	I ferde the worse al the morwe
100	After, to thenken on her sorwe.
101	So whan she coude here no word
102	That no man mighte fynde hir lord,
103	Ful ofte she swouned, and saide 'Alas!'
104	For sorwe ful nigh wood she was,
105	Ne she coude no reed but oon;
106	But doun on knees she sat anoon,
107	And weep, that pite was to here.
108	'A! mercy! swete lady dere!'
109	Quod she to Iuno, hir goddesse;
110	'Help me out of this distresse,
111	And yeve me grace my lord to see
112	Sone, or wite wher-so he be,
113	Or how he fareth, or in what wyse,
114	And I shal make you sacrifyse,
115	And hoolly youres become I shal
116	With good wil, body, herte, and al;
117	And but thou wilt this, lady swete,
118	Send me grace to slepe, and mete
119	In my slepe som certeyn sweven,
120	Wher-through that I may knowen even
121	Whether my lord be quik or deed.'
122	With that word she heng doun the heed,
123	And fil a-swown as cold as ston;
124	Hir women caught her up anon,
125	And broghten hir in bed al naked,
126	And she, forweped and forwaked,
127	Was wery, and thus the dede sleep
128	Fil on hir, or she toke keep,
129	Through Iuno, that had herd hir bone,
130	That made hir to slepe sone;
131	For as she prayde, so was don,
132	In dede; for Iuno, right anon,
133	Called thus her messagere
134	To do her erande, and he com nere.
135	Whan he was come, she bad him thus:
136	'Go bet,' quod Iuno, 'to Morpheus,
137	Thou knowest hym wel, the god of sleep;
138	Now understond wel, and tak keep.
139	Sey thus on my halfe, that he
140	Go faste into the grete see,
141	And bid him that, on alle thing,
142	He take up Seys body the king,
143	That lyth ful pale and no-thing rody.
144	Bid him crepe into the body,
145	Aud do it goon to Alcyone
146	The quene, ther she lyth alone,
147	And shewe hir shortly, hit is no nay,
148	How hit was dreynt this other day;
149	And do the body speke so
150	Right as hit was wont to do,
151	The whyles that hit was on lyve.
152	Go now faste, and hy thee blyve!'
153	This messager took leve and wente
154	Upon his wey, and never ne stente
155	Til he com to the derke valeye
156	That stant bytwene roches tweye,
157	Ther never yet grew corn ne gras,
158	Ne tree, ne nothing that ought was,
159	Beste, ne man, ne nothing elles,
160	Save ther were a fewe welles
161	Came renning fro the cliffes adoun,
162	That made a deedly sleping soun,
163	And ronnen doun right by a cave
164	That was under a rokke y-grave
165	Amid the valey, wonder depe.
166	Ther thise goddes laye and slepe,
167	Morpheus, and Eclympasteyre,
168	That was the god of slepes heyre,
169	That slepe and did non other werk.
170	This cave was also as derk
171	As helle pit over-al aboute;
172	They had good leyser for to route
173	To envye, who might slepe beste;
174	Some henge hir chin upon hir breste
175	And slepe upright, hir heed y-hed,
176	And some laye naked in hir bed,
177	And slepe whyles the dayes laste.
178	This messager come flying faste,
179	And cryed, 'O ho! awake anon!'
180	Hit was for noght; ther herde him non.
181	'Awak!' quod he, 'who is, lyth there?'
182	And blew his horn right in hir ere,
183	And cryed 'awaketh!' wonder hye.
184	This god of slepe, with his oon ye
185	Cast up, axed, 'who clepeth there?'
186	'Hit am I,' quod this messagere;
187	'Iuno bad thou shuldest goon' --
188	And tolde him what he shulde doon
189	As I have told yow here-tofore;
190	Hit is no need reherse hit more;
191	And wente his wey, whan he had sayd.
192	Anon this god of slepe a-brayd
193	Out of his slepe, and gan to goon,
194	And did as he had bede him doon;
195	Took up the dreynte body sone,
196	And bar hit forth to Alcyone,
197	His wif the quene, ther-as she lay,
198	Right even a quarter before day,
199	And stood right at hir beddes fete,
200	And called hir, right as she hete,
201	By name, and sayde, 'my swete wyf,
202	Awak! let be your sorwful lyf!
203	For in your sorwe there lyth no reed;
204	For certes, swete, I nam but deed;
205	Ye shul me never on lyve y-see.
206	But good swete herte, look that ye
207	Bury my body, at whiche a tyde
208	Ye mowe hit finde the see besyde;
209	And far-wel, swete, my worldes blisse!
210	I praye god your sorwe lisse;
211	To litel whyl our blisse lasteth!'
212	With that hir eyen up she casteth,
213	And saw noght; 'A!' quod she, 'for sorwe!'
214	And deyed within the thridde morwe.
215	But what she sayde more in that swow
216	I may not telle yow as now,
217	Hit were to longe for to dwelle;
218	My first matere I wil yow telle,
219	Wherfor I have told this thing
220	Of Alcione and Seys the king.
221	For thus moche dar I saye wel,
222	I had be dolven everydel,
223	And deed, right through defaute of sleep,
224	If I nad red and taken keep
225	Of this tale next before:
226	And I wol telle yow wherfore:
227	For I ne might, for bote ne bale,
228	Slepe, or I had red this tale
229	Of this dreynte Seys the king,
230	And of the goddes of sleping.
231	Whan I had red this tale wel
232	And over-loked hit everydel,
233	Me thoughte wonder if hit were so;
234	For I had never herd speke, or tho,
235	Of no goddes that coude make
236	Men for to slepe, ne for to wake;
237	For I ne knew never god but oon.
238	And in my game I sayde anoon --
239	And yet me list right evel to pleye --
240	'Rather then that I shulde deye
241	Through defaute of sleping thus,
242	I wolde yive thilke Morpheus,
243	Or his goddesse, dame Iuno,
244	Or som wight elles, I ne roghte who --
245	To make me slepe and have som reste --
246	I wil yive him the alder-beste
247	Yift that ever he aboode his lyve,
248	And here on warde, right now, as blyve;
249	If he wol make me slepe a lyte,
250	Of downe of pure dowves whyte
251	I wil yive him a fether-bed,
252	Rayed with golde, and right wel cled
253	In fyn blak satin doutremere,
254	And many a pilow, and every bere
255	Of clothe of Reynes, to slepe softe;
256	Him thar not nede to turnen ofte.
257	And I wol yive him al that falles
258	To a chambre; and al his halles
259	I wol do peynte with pure golde,
260	And tapite hem ful many folde
261	Of oo sute; this shal he have,
262	Yf I wiste wher were his cave,
263	If he can make me slepe sone,
264	As did the goddesse Alcione.
265	And thus this ilke god, Morpheus,
266	May winne of me mo fees thus
267	Than ever he wan; and to Iuno,
268	That is his goddesse, I shal so do,
269	I trow that she shal holde her payd.'
270	I hadde unneth that word y-sayd
271	Right thus as I have told hit yow,
272	That sodeynly, I niste how,
273	Swich a lust anoon me took
274	To slepe, that right upon my book
275	I fil aslepe, and therwith even
276	Me mette so inly swete a sweven,
277	So wonderful, that never yit
278	I trowe no man hadde the wit
279	To conne wel my sweven rede;
280	No, not Ioseph, withoute drede,
281	Of Egipte, he that redde so
282	The kinges meting Pharao,
283	No more than coude the leste of us;
284	Ne nat scarsly Macrobeus,
285	(He that wroot al thavisioun
286	That he mette, Kyng Scipioun,
287	The noble man, the Affrican --
288	Swiche marvayles fortuned than)
289	I trowe, a-rede my dremes even.
290	Lo, thus hit was, this was my sweven.

THE DREAM

291	Me thoughte thus: -- that hit was May,
292	And in the dawning ther I lay,
293	Me mette thus, in my bed al naked: --
294	I loked forth, for I was waked
295	With smale foules a gret hepe,
296	That had affrayed me out of slepe
297	Through noyse and swetnesse of hir song;
298	And, as me mette, they sate among,
299	Upon my chambre-roof withoute,
300	Upon the tyles, al a-boute,
301	And songen, everich in his wise,
302	The moste solempne servyse
303	By note, that ever man, I trowe,
304	Had herd; for som of hem song lowe,
305	Som hye, and al of oon acorde.
306	To telle shortly, at oo worde,
307	Was never y-herd so swete a steven,
308	But hit had be a thing of heven; --
309	So mery a soun, so swete entunes,
310	That certes, for the toune of Tewnes,
311	I nolde but I had herd hem singe,
312	For al my chambre gan to ringe
313	Through singing of hir armonye.
314	For instrument nor melodye
315	Was nowher herd yet half so swete,
316	Nor of acorde half so mete;
317	For ther was noon of hem that feyned
318	To singe, for ech of hem him peyned
319	To finde out mery crafty notes;
320	They ne spared not hir throtes.
321	And, sooth to seyn, my chambre was
322	Ful wel depeynted, and with glas
323	Were al the windowes wel y-glased,
324	Ful clere, and nat an hole y-crased,
325	That to beholde hit was gret Ioye.
326	For hoolly al the storie of Troye
327	Was in the glasing y-wroght thus,
328	Of Ector and of king Priamus,
329	Of Achilles and king Lamedon,
330	Of Medea and of Iason,
331	Of Paris, Eleyne, and Lavyne.
332	And alle the walles with colours fyne
333	Were peynted, bothe text and glose,
334	Of al the Romaunce of the Rose.
335	My windowes weren shet echon,
336	And through the glas the sunne shon
337	Upon my bed with brighte bemes,
338	With many glade gilden stremes;
339	And eek the welken was so fair,
340	Blew, bright, clere was the air,
341	And ful atempre, for sothe, hit was;
342	For nother cold nor hoot hit nas,
343	Ne in al the welken was a cloude.
344	And as I lay thus, wonder loude
345	Me thoughte I herde an hunte blowe
346	Tassaye his horn, and for to knowe
347	Whether hit were clere or hors of soune.
348	I herde goinge, up and doune,
349	Men, hors, houndes, and other thing;
350	And al men speken of hunting,
351	How they wolde slee the hert with strengthe,
352	And how the hert had, upon lengthe,
353	So moche embosed,I not now what.
354	Anon-right, whan I herde that,
355	How that they wolde on hunting goon,
356	I was right glad, and up anoon;
357	I took my hors, and forth I wente
358	Out of my chambre; I never stente
359	Til I com to the feld withoute.
360	Ther overtook I a gret route
361	Of huntes and eek of foresteres,
362	With many relayes and lymeres,
363	And hyed hem to the forest faste,
364	And I with hem; -- so at the laste
365	I asked oon, ladde a lymere: --
366	'Say, felow, who shal hunten here'
367	Quod I, and he answerde ageyn,
368	'Sir, themperour Octovien,'
369	Quod he, 'and is heer faste by.'
370	'A goddes halfe, in good tyme,' quod I,
371	'Go we faste!' and gan to ryde.
372	Whan we came to the forest-syde,
373	Every man dide, right anoon,
374	As to hunting fil to doon.
375	The mayster-hunte anoon, fot-hoot,
376	With a gret horne blew three moot
377	At the uncoupling of his houndes.
378	Within a whyl the hert y-founde is,
379	Y-halowed, and rechased faste
380	Longe tyme; and so at the laste,
381	This hert rused and stal away
382	Fro alle the houndes a prevy way.
383	The houndes had overshote hem alle,
384	And were on a defaute y-falle;
385	Therwith the hunte wonder faste
386	Blew a forloyn at the laste.
387	I was go walked fro my tree,
388	And as I wente, ther cam by me
389	A whelp, that fauned me as I stood,
390	That hadde y-folowed, and coude no good.
391	Hit com and creep to me as lowe,
392	Right as hit hadde me y-knowe,
393	Hild doun his heed and Ioyned his eres,
394	And leyde al smothe doun his heres.
395	I wolde han caught hit, and anoon
396	Hit fledde, and was fro me goon;
397	And I him folwed, and hit forth wente
398	Doun by a floury grene wente
399	Ful thikke of gras, ful softe and swete,
400	With floures fele, faire under fete,
401	And litel used, hit seemed thus;
402	For bothe Flora and Zephirus,
403	They two that make floures growe,
404	Had mad hir dwelling ther, I trowe;
405	For hit was, on to beholde,
406	As thogh the erthe envye wolde
407	To be gayer than the heven,
408	To have mo floures, swiche seven
409	As in the welken sterres be.
410	Hit had forgete the povertee
411	That winter, through his colde morwes,
412	Had mad hit suffren, and his sorwes;
413	Al was forgeten, and that was sene.
414	For al the wode was waxen grene,
415	Swetnesse of dewe had mad it waxe.
416	Hit is no need eek for to axe
417	Wher ther were many grene greves,
418	Or thikke of trees, so ful of leves;
419	And every tree stood by him-selve
420	Fro other wel ten foot or twelve.
421	So grete trees, so huge of strengthe,
422	Of fourty or fifty fadme lengthe,
423	Clene withoute bough or stikke,
424	With croppes brode, and eek as thikke --
425	They were nat an inche a-sonder --
426	That hit was shadwe over-al under;
427	And many an hert and many an hinde
428	Was both before me and bihinde.
429	Of founes, soures, bukkes, does
430	Was ful the wode, and many roes,
431	And many squirelles that sete
432	Ful hye upon the trees, and ete,
433	And in hir maner made festes.
434	Shortly, hit was so ful of bestes,
435	That thogh Argus, the noble countour,
436	Sete to rekene in his countour,
437	And rekened with his figures ten --
438	For by tho figures mowe al ken,
439	If they be crafty, rekene and noumbre,
440	And telle of every thing the noumbre --
441	Yet shulde he fayle to rekene even
442	The wondres, me mette in my sweven.
443	But forth they romed wonder faste
444	Doun the wode; so at the laste
445	I was war of a man in blak,
446	That sat and had y-turned his bak
447	To an oke, an huge tree.
448	'Lord,' thoghte I, 'who may that be?
449	What ayleth him to sitten here?'
450	Anoon-right I wente nere;
451	Than fond I sitte even upright
452	A wonder wel-faringe knight --
453	By the maner me thoughte so --
454	Of good mochel, and yong therto,
455	Of the age of four and twenty yeer.
456	Upon his berde but litel heer,
457	And he was clothed al in blakke.
458	I stalked even unto his bakke,
459	And ther I stood as stille as ought,
460	That, sooth to saye, he saw me nought,
461	For-why he heng his heed adoune.
462	And with a deedly sorwful soune
463	He made of ryme ten vers or twelve
464	Of a compleynt to him-selve,
465	The moste pite, the moste rowthe,
466	That ever I herde; for, by my trowthe,
467	Hit was gret wonder that nature
468	Might suffren any creature
469	To have swich sorwe, and be not deed.
470	Ful pitous, pale, and nothing reed,
471	He sayde a lay, a maner song,
472	Withoute note, withoute song,
473	And hit was this; for wel I can
474	Reherse hit; right thus hit began. --
475	'I have of sorwe so grete woon,
476	That Ioye gete I never noon,
477	Now that I see my lady bright,
478	Which I have loved with al my might,
479	Is fro me dedd, and is a-goon.
480	And thus in sorwe lefte me alone.
481	'Allas, o deeth! what ayleth thee,
482	That thou noldest have taken me,
483	'Whan that thou toke my lady swete?
484	That was so fayr, so fresh, so free,
485	So good, that men may wel y-see
486	'Of al goodnesse she had no mete!' --
487	Whan he had mad thus his complaynte,
488	His sorowful herte gan faste faynte,
489	And his spirites wexen dede;
490	The blood was fled, for pure drede,
491	Doun to his herte, to make him warm --
492	For wel hit feled the herte had harm --
493	To wite eek why hit was a-drad,
494	By kinde, and for to make hit glad;
495	For hit is membre principal
496	Of the body; and that made al
497	His hewe chaunge and wexe grene
498	And pale, for no blood was sene
499	In no maner lime of his.
500	Anoon therwith whan I saw this,
501	He ferde thus evel ther he sete,
502	I wente and stood right at his fete,
503	And grette him, but he spak noght,
504	But argued with his owne thoght,
505	And in his witte disputed faste
506	Why and how his lyf might laste;
507	Him thoughte his sorwes were so smerte
508	And lay so colde upon his herte;
509	So, through his sorwe and hevy thoght,
510	Made him that he ne herde me noght;
511	For he had wel nigh lost his minde,
512	Thogh Pan, that men clepe god of kinde,
513	Were for his sorwes never so wrooth.
514	But at the laste, to sayn right sooth,
515	He was war of me, how I stood
516	Before him, and dide of myn hood,
517	And grette him, as I best coude.
518	Debonairly, and no-thing loude,
519	He sayde, 'I prey thee, be not wrooth,
520	I herde thee not, to sayn the sooth,
521	Ne I saw thee not, sir, trewely.'
522	'A! goode sir, no fors,' quod I,
523	'I am right sory if I have ought
524	Destroubled yow out of your thought;
525	For-yive me if I have mis-take.'
526	'Yis, thamendes is light to make,'
527	Quod he, 'for ther lyth noon ther-to;
528	Ther is no-thing missayd nor do,'
529	Lo! how goodly spak this knight,
530	As it had been another wight;
531	He made it nouther tough ne queynte
532	And I saw that, and gan me aqueynte
533	With him, and fond him so tretable,
534	Right wonder skilful and resonable,
535	As me thoghte, for al his bale.
536	Anoon-right I gan finde a tale
537	To him, to loke wher I might ought
538	Have more knowing of his thought.
539	'Sir,' quod I, 'this game is doon;
540	I holde that this hert be goon;
541	Thise huntes conne him nowher see.'
542	'I do no fors therof,' quod he,
543	'My thought is ther-on never a del.'
544	'By our lord,' quod I, 'I trow yow wel,
545	Right so me thinketh by your chere.
546	But, sir, oo thing wol ye here?
547	Me thinketh, in gret sorwe I yow see;
548	But certes, good sir, yif that ye
549	Wolde ought discure me your wo,
550	I wolde, as wis god help me so,
551	Amende hit, yif I can or may;
552	Ye mowe preve hit by assay.
553	For, by my trouthe, to make yow hool,
554	I wol do al my power hool;
555	And telleth me of your sorwes smerte,
556	Paraventure hit may ese your herte,
557	That semeth ful seke under your syde.'
558	With that he loked on me asyde,
559	As who sayth, 'Nay, that wol not be.'
560	'Graunt mercy, goode frend,' quod he,
561	'I thanke thee that thou woldest so,
562	But hit may never the rather be do,
563	No man may my sorwe glade,
564	That maketh my hewe to falle and fade,
565	And hath myn understonding lorn,
566	That me is wo that I was born!
567	May noght make my sorwes slyde,
568	Nought the remedies of Ovyde;
569	Ne Orpheus, god of melodye,
570	Ne Dedalus, with playes slye;
571	Ne hele me may phisicien,
572	Noght Ypocras, ne Galien;
573	Me is wo that I live houres twelve;
574	But who so wol assaye him-selve
575	Whether his herte can have pite
576	Of any sorwe, lat him see me.
577	I wrecche, that deeth hath mad al naked
578	Of alle blisse that ever was maked,
579	Y-worthe worste of alle wightes,
580	That hate my dayes and my nightes;
581	My lyf, my lustes be me lothe,
582	For al welfare and I be wrothe.
583	The pure deeth is so my fo
584	Thogh I wolde deye, hit wolde not so;
585	For whan I folwe hit, hit wol flee;
586	I wolde have hit, hit nil not me.
587	This is my peyne withoute reed,
588	Alway deinge and be not deed,
589	That Sesiphus, that lyth in helle,
590	May not of more sorwe telle.
591	And who so wiste al, be my trouthe,
592	My sorwe, but he hadde routhe
593	And pite of my sorwes smerte,
594	That man hath a feendly herte.
595	For who so seeth me first on morwe
596	May seyn, he hath y-met with sorwe;
597	For I am sorwe and sorwe is I.
598	'Allas! and I wol telle the why;
599	My song is turned to pleyning,
600	And al my laughter to weping,
601	My glade thoghtes to hevinesse,
602	In travaile is myn ydelnesse
603	And eek my reste; my wele is wo,
604	My goode is harm, and ever-mo
605	In wrathe is turned my pleying,
606	And my delyt in-to sorwing.
607	Myn hele is turned into seeknesse,
608	In drede is al my sikernesse.
609	To derke is turned al my light,
610	My wit is foly, my day is night,
611	My love is hate, my sleep waking,
612	My mirthe and meles is fasting,
613	My countenaunce is nycete,
614	And al abaved wher-so I be,
615	My pees, in pleding and in werre;
616	Allas! how mighte I fare werre?
617	'My boldnesse is turned to shame,
618	For fals Fortune hath pleyd a game
619	Atte ches with me, allas! the whyle!
620	The trayteresse fals and ful of gyle,
621	That al behoteth and no-thing halt,
622	She goth upryght and yet she halt,
623	That baggeth foule and loketh faire,
624	The dispitouse debonaire,
625	That scorneth many a creature!
626	An ydole of fals portraiture
627	Is she, for she wil sone wryen;
628	She is the monstres heed y-wryen,
629	As filth over y-strawed with floures;
630	Hir moste worship and hir flour is
631	To lyen, for that is hir nature;
632	Withoute feyth, lawe, or mesure.
633	She is fals; and ever laughinge
634	With oon eye, and that other wepinge.
635	That is broght up, she set al doun.
636	I lykne hir to the scorpioun,
637	That is a fals, flateringe beste;
638	For with his hede he maketh feste,
639	But al amid his flateringe
640	With his tayle he wol stinge,
641	And envenyme; and so wol she.
642	She is thenvyouse charite
643	That is ay fals, and seemeth wele,
644	So turneth she hir false whele
645	Aboute, for it is no-thing stable,
646	Now by the fyre, now at table;
647	Ful many oon hath she thus y-blent;
648	She is pley of enchauntement,
649	That semeth oon and is not so,
650	The false theef! what hath she do,
651	Trowest thou? By our lord, I wol thee seye.
652	Atte ches with me she gan to pleye;
653	With hir false draughtes divers
654	She stal on me, and took my fers.
655	And whan I saw my fers aweye,
656	Alas! I couthe no lenger playe,
657	But seyde, "Farewel, swete, y-wis,
658	And farwel al that ever ther is!"
659	Therwith Fortune seyde, "Chek here!"
660	And "Mate!" in mid pointe of the chekkere
661	With a poune erraunt, allas!
662	Ful craftier to pley she was
663	Than Athalus, that made the game
664	First of the ches: so was his name.
665	But God wolde I had ones or twyes
666	Y-koud and knowe the Ieupardyes
667	That coude the Grek Pithagores!
668	I shulde have pleyd the bet at ches,
669	And kept my fers the bet therby;
670	And thogh wherto? for trewely,
671	I hold that wish nat worth a stree!
672	Hit had be never the bet for me.
673	For Fortune can so many a wyle,
674	Ther be but fewe can hir begyle,
675	And eek she is the las to blame;
676	My-self I wolde have do the same,
677	Before god, hadde I been as she;
678	She oghte the more excused be.
679	For this I say yet more therto,
680	Hadde I be god and mighte have do
681	My wille, whan she my fers caughte,
682	I wolde have drawe the same draughte.
683	For, also wis god yive me reste,
684	I dar wel swere she took the beste!
685	'But through that draughte I have lorn
686	My blisse; allas! that I was born!
687	For evermore, I trowe trewly,
688	For al my wil, my lust hoolly
689	Is turned; but yet what to done?
690	Be oure lord, hit is to deye sone;
691	For no-thing I ne leve it noght,
692	But live and deye right in this thoght.
693	There nis planete in firmament,
694	Ne in air, ne in erthe, noon element,
695	That they ne yive me a yift echoon
696	Of weping, whan I am aloon.
697	For whan that I avyse me wel,
698	And bethenke me every-del,
699	How that ther lyth in rekening,
700	In my sorwe for no-thing;
701	And how ther leveth no gladnesse
702	May gladde me of my distresse,
703	And how I have lost suffisance,
704	And therto I have no plesance,
705	Than may I say, I have right noght.
706	And whan al this falleth in my thoght,
707	Allas! than am I overcome!
708	For that is doon is not to come!
709	I have more sorowe than Tantale.'
710	And whan I herde him telle this tale
711	Thus pitously, as I yow telle,
712	Unnethe mighte I lenger dwelle,
713	Hit dide myn hert so moche wo.
714	'A! good sir!' quod I, 'say not so!
715	Have som pite on your nature
716	That formed yow to creature,
717	Remembre yow of Socrates;
718	For he ne counted nat three strees
719	Of noght that Fortune coude do.'
720	'No,' quod he, 'I can not so.'
721	'Why so? good sir! parde!' quod I;
722	'Ne say noght so, for trewely,
723	Thogh ye had lost the ferses twelve,
724	And ye for sorwe mordred your-selve,
725	Ye sholde be dampned in this cas
726	By as good right as Medea was,
727	That slow hir children for Iason;
728	And Phyllis als for Demophon
729	Heng hir-self, so weylaway!
730	For he had broke his terme-day
731	To come to hir. Another rage
732	Had Dydo, quene eek of Cartage,
733	That slow hir-self for Eneas
734	Was fals; a whiche a fool she was!
735	And Ecquo dyed for Narcisus.
736	Nolde nat love hir; and right thus
737	Hath many another foly don.
738	And for Dalida died Sampson,
739	That slow him-self with a pilere.
740	But ther is noon a-lyve here
741	Wolde for a fers make this wo!'
742	'Why so?' quod he; 'hit is nat so,
743	Thou woste ful litel what thou menest;
744	I have lost more than thow wenest.'
745	'Lo, sir, how may that be?' quod I;
746	'Good sir, tel me al hoolly
747	In what wyse, how, why, and wherfore
748	That ye have thus your blisse lore,'
749	'Blythly,' quod he, 'com sit adoun,
750	I telle thee up condicioun
751	That thou hoolly, with al thy wit,
752	Do thyn entent to herkene hit.'
753	'Yis, sir.' 'Swere thy trouthe ther-to.'
754	'Gladly.' 'Do than holde her-to!'
755	'I shal right blythly, so god me save,
756	Hoolly, with al the witte I have,
757	Here yow, as wel as I can,'
758	'A goddes half!' quod he, and began: --
759	'Sir,' quod he, 'sith first I couthe
760	Have any maner wit fro youthe,
761	Or kyndely understonding
762	To comprehende, in any thing,
763	What love was, in myn owne wit,
764	Dredeles, I have ever yit
765	Be tributary, and yiven rente
766	To love hoolly with goode entente,
767	And through plesaunce become his thral,
768	With good wil, body, herte, and al.
769	Al this I putte in his servage,
770	As to my lorde, and dide homage;
771	And ful devoutly prayde him to,
772	He shulde besette myn herte so,
773	That it plesaunce to him were,
774	And worship to my lady dere.
775	'And this was longe, and many a yeer
776	Or that myn herte was set o-wher,
777	That I did thus, and niste why;
778	I trowe hit cam me kindely.
779	Paraunter I was therto most able
780	As a whyt wal or a table;
781	For hit is redy to cacche and take
782	Al that men wil therin make,
783	Wher-so so men wol portreye or peynte,
784	Be the werkes never so queynte.
785	'And thilke tyme I ferde so
786	I was able to have lerned tho,
787	And to have coud as wel or better,
788	Paraunter, other art or letter.
789	But for love cam first in my thought,
790	Therfore I forgat hit nought.
791	I chees love to my firste craft,
792	Therfor hit is with me y-laft.
793	Forwhy I took hit of so yong age,
794	That malice hadde my corage
795	Nat that tyme turned to no-thing
796	Through to mochel knowleching.
797	For that tyme youthe, my maistresse,
798	Governed me in ydelnesse;
799	For hit was in my firste youthe,
800	And tho ful litel good I couthe,
801	For al my werkes were flittinge,
802	And al my thoghtes varyinge;
803	Al were to me y-liche good,
804	That I knew tho; but thus hit stood.
805	'Hit happed that I cam on a day
806	Into a place, ther I say,
807	Trewly, the fayrest companye
808	Of ladies that ever man with ye
809	Had seen togedres in oo place.
810	Shal I clepe hit hap other grace
811	That broght me ther? nay, but Fortune,
812	That is to lyen ful comune,
813	The false trayteresse, pervers,
814	God wolde I coude clepe hir wers!
815	For now she worcheth me ful wo,
816	And I wol telle sone why so.
817	'Among thise ladies thus echoon,
818	Soth to seyn, I saw ther oon
819	That was lyk noon of al the route;
820	For I dar swere, withoute doute,
821	That as the someres sonne bright
822	Is fairer, clere, and hath more light
823	Than any planete, is in heven,
824	The mone, or the sterres seven,
825	For al the worlde so had she
826	Surmounted hem alle of beaute,
827	Of maner and of comlinesse,
828	Of stature and wel set gladnesse,
829	Of goodlihede so wel beseye --
830	Shortly, what shal I more seye?
831	By god, and by his halwes twelve,
832	It was my swete, right al hir-selve!
833	She had so stedfast countenaunce,
834	So noble port and meyntenaunce.
835	And Love, that had herd my bone,
836	Had espyed me thus sone,
837	That she ful sone, in my thoght,
838	As helpe me god, so was y-caught
839	So sodenly, that I ne took
840	No maner reed but at hir look
841	And at myn herte; for-why hir eyen
842	So gladly, I trow, myn herte seyen,
843	That purely tho myn owne thoght
844	Seyde hit were bet serve hir for noght
845	Than with another to be wel.
846	And hit was sooth, for, everydel,
847	I wil anoon-right telle thee why.
848	I saw hir daunce so comlily,
849	Carole and singe so swetely,
850	Laughe and pleye so womanly,
851	And loke so debonairly,
852	So goodly speke and so frendly,
853	That certes, I trow, that evermore
854	Nas seyn so blisful a tresore.
855	For every heer upon hir hede,
856	Soth to seyn, hit was not rede,
857	Ne nouther yelw, ne broun hit nas;
858	Me thoghte, most lyk gold hit was.
859	And whiche eyen my lady hadde!
860	Debonair, goode, glade, and sadde,
861	Simple, of good mochel, noght to wyde;
862	Therto hir look nas not a-syde,
863	Ne overthwert, but beset so wel,
864	Hit drew and took up, everydel,
865	Alle that on hir gan beholde.
866	Hir eyen semed anoon she wolde
867	Have mercy; fooles wenden so;
868	But hit was never the rather do.
869	Hit nas no countrefeted thing,
870	It was hir owne pure loking,
871	That the goddesse, dame Nature,
872	Had made hem opene by mesure,
873	And close; for, were she never so glad,
874	Hir loking was not foly sprad,
875	Ne wildely, thogh that she pleyde;
876	But ever, me thoght, hir eyen seyde,
877	"By god, my wrathe is al for-yive!"
878	'Therwith hir liste so wel to live,
879	That dulnesse was of hir a-drad.
880	She nas to sobre ne to glad;
881	In alle thinges more mesure
882	Had never, I trowe, creature.
883	But many oon with hir loke she herte,
884	And that sat hir ful lyte at herte,
885	For she knew no-thing of her thoght;
886	But whether she knew, or knew hit noght,
887	Algate she ne roghte of hem a stree!
888	To gete hir love no ner was he
889	That woned at home, than he in Inde;
890	The formest was alway behinde.
891	But goode folk, over al other,
892	She loved as man may do his brother;
893	Of whiche love she was wonder large,
894	In skilful places that bere charge.
895	'Which a visage had she ther-to!
896	Allas! myn herte is wonder wo
897	That I ne can discryven hit!
898	Me lakketh bothe English and wit
899	For to undo hit at the fulle;
900	And eek my spirits be so dulle
901	So greet a thing for to devyse.
902	I have no wit that can suffyse
903	To comprehenden hir beaute;
904	But thus moche dar I seyn, that she
905	Was rody, fresh, and lyvely hewed;
906	And every day hir beaute newed.
907	And negh hir face was alder-best;
908	For certes, Nature had swich lest
909	To make that fair, that trewly she
910	Was hir cheef patron of beautee,
911	And cheef ensample of al hir werke,
912	And moustre; for, be hit never so derke,
913	Me thinketh I see hir ever-mo.
914	And yet more-over, thogh alle tho
915	That ever lived were not a-lyve,
916	They ne sholde have founde to discryve
917	In al hir face a wikked signe;
918	For hit was sad, simple, and benigne.
919	'And which a goodly, softe speche
920	Had that swete, my lyves leche!
921	So frendly, and so wel y-grounded,
922	Up al resoun so wel y-founded,
923	And so tretable to alle gode,
924	That I dar swere by the rode,
925	Of eloquence was never founde
926	So swete a sowninge facounde,
927	Ne trewer tonged, ne scorned lasse,
928	Ne bet coude hele; that, by the masse,
929	I durste swere, thogh the pope hit songe,
930	That ther was never yet through hir tonge
931	Man ne woman gretly harmed;
932	As for hir, ther was al harm hid;
933	Ne lasse flatering in hir worde,
934	That purely, hir simple recorde
935	Was founde as trewe as any bonde,
936	Or trouthe of any mannes honde.
937	Ne chyde she coude never a del,
938	That knoweth al the world ful wel.
939	'But swich a fairnesse of a nekke
940	Had that swete that boon nor brekke
941	Nas ther non sene, that mis-sat.
942	Hit was whyt, smothe, streght, and flat,
943	Withouten hole; and canel-boon,
944	As by seming, had she noon.
945	Hir throte, as I have now memoire,
946	Semed a round tour of yvoire,
947	Of good gretnesse, and noght to grete.
948	'And gode faire Whyte she hete,
949	That was my lady name right.
950	She was bothe fair and bright,
951	She hadde not hir name wrong.
952	Right faire shuldres, and body long
953	She hadde, and armes; every lith
954	Fattish, flesshy, not greet therwith;
955	Right whyte handes, and nayles rede,
956	Rounde brestes; and of good brede
957	Hyr hippes were, a streight flat bake.
958	I knew on hir non other lak
959	That al hir limmes nere sewing,
960	In as fer as I had knowing.
961	'Therto she coude so wel pleye,
962	Whan that hir liste, that I dar seye,
963	That she was lyk to torche bright,
964	That every man may take of light
965	Ynogh, and hit hath never the lesse.
966	'Of maner and of comlinesse
967	Right so ferde my lady dere;
968	For every wight of hir manere
969	Might cacche ynogh, if that he wolde,
970	If he had eyen hir to beholde.
971	For I dar sweren, if that she
972	Had among ten thousand be,
973	She wolde have be, at the leste,
974	A cheef mirour of al the feste,
975	Thogh they had stonden in a rowe,
976	To mennes eyen coude have knowe.
977	For wher-so men had pleyd or waked,
978	Me thoghte the felawship as naked
979	Withouten hir, that saw I ones,
980	As a coroune withoute stones.
981	Trewly she was, to myn ye,
982	The soleyn fenix of Arabye,
983	For ther liveth never but oon;
984	Ne swich as she ne know I noon.
985	'To speke of goodnesse; trewly she
986	Had as moche debonairte
987	As ever had Hester in the bible
988	And more, if more were possible.
989	And, soth to seyne, therwith-al
990	She had a wit so general,
991	So hool enclyned to alle gode,
992	That al hir wit was set, by the rode,
993	Withoute malice, upon gladnesse;
994	Therto I saw never yet a lesse
995	Harmul, than she was in doing.
996	I sey nat that she ne had knowing
997	What harm was; or elles she
998	Had coud no good, so thinketh me.
999	'And trewly, for to speke of trouthe,
1000	But she had had, hit had be routhe.
1001	Therof she had so moche hir del --
1002	And I dar seyn and swere hit wel --
1003	That Trouthe him-self, over al and al,
1004	Had chose his maner principal
1005	In hir, that was his resting-place.
1006	Ther-to she hadde the moste grace,
1007	To have stedfast perseveraunce,
1008	And esy, atempre governaunce,
1009	That ever I knew or wiste yit;
1010	So pure suffraunt was hir wit.
1011	And reson gladly she understood,
1012	Hit folowed wel she coude good.
1013	She used gladly to do wel;
1014	These were hir maners every-del.
1015	'Therwith she loved so wel right,
1016	She wrong do wolde to no wight;
1017	No wight might do hir no shame,
1018	She loved so wel hir owne name.
1019	Hir luste to holde no wight in honde;
1020	Ne, be thou siker, she nolde fonde
1021	To holde no wight in balaunce,
1022	By half word ne by countenaunce,
1023	But-if men wolde upon hir lye;
1024	Ne sende men in-to Walakye,
1025	To Pruyse, and in-to Tartarye,
1026	To Alisaundre, ne in-to Turkye,
1027	And bidde him faste, anoon that he
1028	Go hoodles to the drye see,
1029	And come hoom by the Carrenare;
1030	And seye, "Sir, be now right ware
1031	That I may of yow here seyn
1032	Worship, or that ye come ageyn!'
1033	She ne used no suche knakkes smale.
1034	'But wherfor that I telle my tale?
1035	Right on this same, as I have seyd,
1036	Was hoolly al my love leyd;
1037	For certes, she was, that swete wyf,
1038	My suffisaunce, my lust, my lyf,
1039	Myn hap, myn hele, and al my blisse,
1040	My worldes welfare, and my lisse,
1041	And I hires hoolly, everydel.'
1042	'By our lord,' quod I, 'I trowe yow wel!
1043	Hardely, your love was wel beset,
1044	I not how ye mighte have do bet.'
1045	'Bet? ne no wight so wel!' quod he.
1046	'I trowe hit, sir,' quod I, 'parde!'
1047	'Nay, leve hit wel!' 'Sir, so do I;
1048	I leve yow wel, that trewely
1049	Yow thoghte, that she was the beste,
1050	And to beholde the alderfaireste,
1051	Who so had loked hir with your eyen.'
1052	'With myn? Nay, alle that hir seyen
1053	Seyde and sworen hit was so.
1054	And thogh they ne hadde, I wolde tho
1055	Have loved best my lady fre,
1056	Thogh I had had al the beautee
1057	That ever had Alcipyades,
1058	And al the strengthe of Ercules,
1059	And therto had the worthinesse
1060	Of Alisaundre, and al the richesse
1061	That ever was in Babiloyne,
1062	In Cartage, or in Macedoyne,
1063	Or in Rome, or in Ninive;
1064	And therto al-so hardy be
1065	As was Ector, so have I Ioye,
1066	That Achilles slow at Troye --
1067	And therfor was he slayn also
1068	In a temple, for bothe two
1069	Were slayn, he and Antilegius,
1070	And so seyth Dares Frigius,
1071	For love of hir Polixena --
1072	Or ben as wys as Minerva,
1073	I wolde ever, withoute drede,
1074	Have loved hir, for I moste nede!
1075	"Nede!" nay, I gabbe now,
1076	Noght "nede", and I wol telle how,
1077	For of good wille myn herte hit wolde,
1078	And eek to love hir I was holde
1079	As for the fairest and the beste.
1080	'She was as good, so have I reste,
1081	As ever was Penelope of Grece,
1082	Or as the noble wyf Lucrece,
1083	That was the beste -- he telleth thus,
1084	The Romayn Tytus Livius --
1085	She was as good, and no-thing lyke,
1086	Thogh hir stories be autentyke;
1087	Algate she was as trewe as she.
1088	'But wherfor that I telle thee
1089	Whan I first my lady say?
1090	I was right yong, the sooth to sey,
1091	And ful gret need I hadde to lerne;
1092	Whan my herte wolde yerne
1093	To love, it was a greet empryse.
1094	But as my wit coude best suffyse,
1095	After my yonge childly wit,
1096	Withoute drede, I besette hit
1097	To love hir in my beste wise,
1098	To do hir worship and servyse
1099	That I tho coude, be my trouthe,
1100	Withoute feyning outher slouthe;
1101	For wonder fayn I wolde hir see.
1102	So mochel hit amended me,
1103	That, whan I saw hir first a-morwe,
1104	I was warished of al my sorwe
1105	Of al day after, til hit were eve;
1106	Me thoghte no-thing mighte me greve,
1107	Were my sorwes never so smerte.
1108	And yit she sit so in myn herte,
1109	That, by my trouthe, I nolde noghte,
1110	For al this worlde, out of my thoght
1111	Leve my lady; no, trewly!'
1112	'Now, by my trouthe, sir,' quod I,
1113	'Me thinketh ye have such a chaunce
1114	As shrift withoute repentaunce.'
1115	'Repentaunce! nay, fy,' quod he;
1116	'Shulde I now repente me
1117	To love? nay, certes, than were I wel
1118	Wers than was Achitofel,
1119	Or Anthenor, so have I Ioye,
1120	The traytour that betraysed Troye,
1121	Or the false Genelon,
1122	He that purchased the treson
1123	Of Rowland and of Olivere.
1124	Nay, why! I am a-lyve here
1125	I nil foryete hir never-mo.'
1126	'Now, goode sir,' quod I right tho,
1127	'Ye han wel told me her-before.
1128	It is no need reherse hit more
1129	How ye sawe hir first, and where;
1130	But wolde ye telle me the manere,
1131	To hir which was your firste speche --
1132	Therof I wolde yow be-seche --
1133	And how she knewe first your thoght,
1134	Whether ye loved hir or noght,
1135	And telleth me eek what ye have lore;
1136	I herde yow telle her-before.'
1137	'Ye,' seyde he, 'thow nost what thou menest;
1138	I have lost more than thou wenest.'
1139	'What los is that, sir?' quod I tho;
1140	'Nil she not love yow? Is hit so?
1141	Or have ye oght y-doon amis,
1142	That she hath left yow? is hit this?
1143	For goddes love, telle me al.'
1144	'Before god,' quod he, 'and I shal.
1145	I saye right as I have seyd,
1146	On hir was al my love leyd;
1147	And yet she niste hit never a del
1148	Noght longe tyme, leve hit wel.
1149	For be right siker, I durste noght
1150	For al this worlde telle hir my thoght,
1151	Ne I wolde have wratthed hir, trewely.
1152	For wostow why? she was lady
1153	Of the body; she had the herte,
1154	And who hath that, may not asterte.
1155	'But, for to kepe me fro ydelnesse,
1156	Trewly I did my besinesse
1157	To make songes, as I best coude,
1158	And ofte tyme I song hem loude;
1159	And made songes a gret del,
1160	Al-thogh I coude not make so wel
1161	Songes, ne knowe the art al,
1162	As coude Lamekes sone Tubal,
1163	That fond out first the art of songe;
1164	For, as his brothers hamers ronge
1165	Upon his anvelt up and doun,
1166	Therof he took the firste soun;
1167	But Grekes seyn, Pictagoras,
1168	That he the firste finder was
1169	Of the art; Aurora telleth so,
1170	But therof no fors, of hem two.
1171	Algates songes thus I made
1172	Of my feling, myn herte to glade;
1173	And lo! this was the alther-firste,
1174	I not wher that hit were the werst. --
1175	"Lord, hit maketh myn herte light,
1176	Whan I thenke on that swete wight
1177	That is so semely on to see;
1178	And wisshe to god hit might so be,
1179	That she wolde holde me for hir knight,
1180	My lady, that is so fair and bright!" --
1181	'Now have I told thee, sooth to saye,
1182	My firste song. Upon a daye
1183	I bethoghte me what wo
1184	And sorwe that I suffred tho
1185	For hir, and yet she wiste hit noght,
1186	Ne telle hir durste I nat my thoght.
1187	'Allas!' thoghte I, 'I can no reed;
1188	And, but I telle hir, I nam but deed;
1189	And if I telle hir, to seye sooth,
1190	I am a-dred she wol be wrooth;
1191	Allas! what shal I thanne do?"
1192	'In this debat I was so wo,
1193	Me thoghte myn herte braste a-tweyn!
1194	So atte laste, soth to sayn,
1195	I me bethoghte that nature
1196	Ne formed never in creature
1197	So moche beaute, trewely,
1198	And bounte, withouten mercy.
1199	'In hope of that, my tale I tolde,
1200	With sorwe, as that I never sholde;
1201	For nedes, and, maugree my heed,
1202	I moste have told hir or be deed.
1203	I not wel how that I began,
1204	Ful evel rehersen hit I can;
1205	And eek, as helpe me god with-al,
1206	I trowe hit was in the dismal,
1207	That was the ten woundes of Egipte;
1208	For many a word I over-skipte
1209	In my tale, for pure fere
1210	Lest my wordes mis-set were.
1211	With sorweful herte, and woundes dede,
1212	Softe and quaking for pure drede
1213	And shame, and stinting in my tale
1214	For ferde, and myn hewe al pale,
1215	Ful ofte I wex bothe pale and reed;
1216	Bowing to hir, I heng the heed;
1217	I durste nat ones loke hir on,
1218	For wit, manere, and al was gon.
1219	I seyde "mercy!" and no more;
1220	Hit nas no game, hit sat me sore.
1221	'So atte laste, sooth to seyn,
1222	Whan that myn herte was come ageyn,
1223	To telle shortly al my speche,
1224	With hool herte I gan hir beseche
1225	That she wolde be my lady swete;
1226	And swor, and gan hir hertely hete
1227	Ever to be stedfast and trewe,
1228	And love hir alwey freshly newe,
1229	And never other lady have,
1230	And al hir worship for to save
1231	As I best coude; I swor hir this --
1232	"For youres is al that ever ther is
1233	For evermore, myn herte swete!
1234	And never false yow, but I mete,
1235	I nil, as wis god helpe me so!"
1236	'And whan I had my tale y-do,
1237	God wot, she acounted nat a stree
1238	Of al my tale, so thoghte me.
1239	To telle shortly as hit is,
1240	Trewly hir answere, hit was this;
1241	I can not now wel counterfete
1242	Hir wordes, but this was the grete
1243	Of hir answere: she sayde, "nay"
1244	Al-outerly. Allas! that day
1245	The sorwe I suffred, and the wo!
1246	That trewly Cassandra, that so
1247	Bewayled the destruccioun.
1248	Of Troye and of Ilioun,
1249	Had never swich sorwe as I tho.
1250	I durste no more say therto
1251	For pure fere, but stal away;
1252	And thus I lived ful many a day;
1253	That trewely, I hadde no need
1254	Ferther than my beddes heed
1255	Never a day to seche sorwe;
1256	I fond hit redy every morwe,
1257	For-why I loved hir in no gere.
1258	'So hit befel, another yere,
1259	I thoughte ones I wolde fonde
1260	To do hir knowe and understonde
1261	My wo; and she wel understood
1262	That I ne wilned thing but good,
1263	And worship, and to kepe hir name
1264	Over al thing, and drede hir shame,
1265	And was so besy hir to serve; --
1266	And pite were I shulde sterve,
1267	Sith that I wilned noon harm, y-wis.
1268	So whan my lady knew al this,
1269	My lady yaf me al hoolly
1270	The noble yift of hir mercy,
1271	Saving hir worship, by al weyes;
1272	Dredles, I mene noon other weyes.
1273	And therwith she yaf me a ring;
1274	I trowe hit was the firste thing;
1275	But if myn herte was y-waxe
1276	Glad, that is no need to axe!
1277	As helpe me god, I was as blyve,
1278	Reysed, as fro dethe to lyve,
1279	Of alle happes the alder-beste,
1280	The gladdest and the moste at reste.
1281	For trewely, that swete wight,
1282	Whan I had wrong and she the right,
1283	She wolde alwey so goodely
1284	For-yeve me so debonairly.
1285	In alle my youthe, in alle chaunce,
1286	She took me in hir governaunce.
1287	'Therwith she was alway so trewe,
1288	Our Ioye was ever y-liche newe;
1289	Our hertes wern so even a payre,
1290	That never nas that oon contrayre
1291	To that other, for no wo.
1292	For sothe, y-liche they suffred tho
1293	Oo blisse and eek oo sorwe bothe;
1294	Y-liche they were bothe gladde and wrothe;
1295	Al was us oon, withoute were.
1296	And thus we lived ful many a yere
1297	So wel, I can nat telle how.'
1298	'Sir,' quod I, 'where is she now?'
1299	'Now!' quod he, and stinte anoon.
1300	Therwith he wex as deed as stoon,
1301	And seyde, 'allas! that I was bore,
1302	That was the los, that her-before
1303	I tolde thee, that I had lorn.
1304	Bethenk how I seyde her-beforn,
1305	"Thou wost ful litel what thou menest;
1306	I have lost more than thou wenest" --
1307	God wot, allas! right that was she!'
1308	'Allas! sir, how? what may that be?'
1309	'She is deed!' 'Nay!' 'Yis, by my trouthe!'
1310	'Is that your los? By god, hit is routhe!'
1311	And with that worde, right anoon,
1312	They gan to strake forth; al was doon,
1313	For that tyme, the hert-hunting.
1314	With that, me thoghte, that this king
1315	Gan quikly hoomward for to ryde
1316	Unto a place ther besyde,
1317	Which was from us but a lyte,
1318	A long castel with walles whyte,
1319	Be seynt Iohan! on a riche hil,
1320	As me mette; but thus it fil.
1321	Right thus me mette, as I yow telle,
1322	That in the castel was a belle,
1323	As hit had smiten houres twelve. --

1324	Therwith I awook my-selve,
1325	And fond me lying in my bed;
1326	And the book that I had red,
1327	Of Alcyone and Seys the king,
1328	And of the goddes of sleping,
1329	I fond it in myn honde ful even.
1330	Thoghte I, 'this is so queynt a sweven,
1331	That I wol, be processe of tyme,
1332	Fonde to putte this sweven in ryme
1333	As I can best'; and that anoon. --
1334	This was my sweven; now hit is doon.

Explicit the Boke of the Duchesse.

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