But to yow, hardy
knightes
of renoun,
Sin that ye be of my divisioun,
Al be I not worthy to so grete a name,
Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun; 275
Ther-for ye oghte have som compassioun
Of my disese, and take it noght a-game.
Sin that ye be of my divisioun,
Al be I not worthy to so grete a name,
Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun; 275
Ther-for ye oghte have som compassioun
Of my disese, and take it noght a-game.
Chaucer - Romuant of the Rose
220
And then hir Ioye, for oght I can espye,
Ne lasteth not the twinkeling of an ye,
And somme han never Ioye til they be dede.
What meneth this? what is this mistihede?
Wherto constreyneth he his folk so faste 225
Thing to desyre, but hit shulde laste?
And thogh he made a lover love a thing,
And maketh hit seme stedfast and during,
Yet putteth he in hit such misaventure,
That reste nis ther noon in his yeving. 230
And that is wonder, that so Iust a king
Doth such hardnesse to his creature.
Thus, whether love breke or elles dure,
Algates he that hath with love to done
Hath ofter wo then changed is the mone. 235
Hit semeth he hath to lovers enmite,
And lyk a fissher, as men alday may see,
Baiteth his angle-hook with som plesaunce,
Til mony a fish is wood til that he be
Sesed ther-with; and then at erst hath he 240
Al his desyr, and ther-with al mischaunce;
And thogh the lyne breke, he hath penaunce;
For with the hoke he wounded is so sore,
That he his wages hath for ever-more.
_The Brooch of Thebes. _
? The broche of Thebes was of suche a kinde, 245
So ful of rubies and of stones Inde,
That every wight, that sette on hit an ye,
He wende anon to worthe out of his minde;
So sore the beaute wolde his herte binde,
Til he hit hadde, him thoghte he moste dye; 250
And whan that hit was his, than shulde he drye
Such wo for drede, ay whyl that he hit hadde,
That welnigh for the fere he shulde madde.
And whan hit was fro his possessioun,
Than had he double wo and passioun 255
For he so fair a tresor had forgo;
But yet this broche, as in conclusioun,
Was not the cause of this confusioun;
But he that wroghte hit enfortuned hit so,
That every wight that had hit shuld have wo; 260
And therfor in the worcher was the vyce,
And in the covetour that was so nyce.
So fareth hit by lovers and by me;
For thogh my lady have so gret beaute,
That I was mad til I had gete hir grace, 265
She was not cause of myn adversite,
But he that wroghte hir, also mot I thee,
That putte suche a beaute in hir face,
That made me to covete and purchace
Myn owne deth; him wyte I that I dye, 270
And myn unwit, that ever I clomb so hye.
_An Appeal for Sympathy. _
?
But to yow, hardy knightes of renoun,
Sin that ye be of my divisioun,
Al be I not worthy to so grete a name,
Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun; 275
Ther-for ye oghte have som compassioun
Of my disese, and take it noght a-game.
The proudest of yow may be mad ful tame;
Wherfor I prey yow, of your gentilesse,
That ye compleyne for myn hevinesse. 280
And ye, my ladies, that ben trewe and stable,
By way of kinde, ye oghten to be able
To have pite of folk that be in peyne:
Now have ye cause to clothe yow in sable;
Sith that your emperice, the honorable, 285
Is desolat, wel oghte ye to pleyne;
Now shuld your holy teres falle and reyne.
Alas! your honour and your emperice,
Nigh deed for drede, ne can hir not chevise.
Compleyneth eek, ye lovers, al in-fere, 290
For hir that, with unfeyned humble chere,
Was ever redy to do yow socour;
Compleyneth hir that ever hath had yow dere;
Compleyneth beaute, fredom, and manere;
Compleyneth hir that endeth your labour; 295
Compleyneth thilke ensample of al honour,
That never dide but al gentilesse;
Kytheth therfor on hir som kindenesse. ' 298
1. Ar. foules; Ju. fowles; T. fooles (! ); Harl. floures (_see_ l. 3); F.
Tn. lovers (_wrongly_).
And then hir Ioye, for oght I can espye,
Ne lasteth not the twinkeling of an ye,
And somme han never Ioye til they be dede.
What meneth this? what is this mistihede?
Wherto constreyneth he his folk so faste 225
Thing to desyre, but hit shulde laste?
And thogh he made a lover love a thing,
And maketh hit seme stedfast and during,
Yet putteth he in hit such misaventure,
That reste nis ther noon in his yeving. 230
And that is wonder, that so Iust a king
Doth such hardnesse to his creature.
Thus, whether love breke or elles dure,
Algates he that hath with love to done
Hath ofter wo then changed is the mone. 235
Hit semeth he hath to lovers enmite,
And lyk a fissher, as men alday may see,
Baiteth his angle-hook with som plesaunce,
Til mony a fish is wood til that he be
Sesed ther-with; and then at erst hath he 240
Al his desyr, and ther-with al mischaunce;
And thogh the lyne breke, he hath penaunce;
For with the hoke he wounded is so sore,
That he his wages hath for ever-more.
_The Brooch of Thebes. _
? The broche of Thebes was of suche a kinde, 245
So ful of rubies and of stones Inde,
That every wight, that sette on hit an ye,
He wende anon to worthe out of his minde;
So sore the beaute wolde his herte binde,
Til he hit hadde, him thoghte he moste dye; 250
And whan that hit was his, than shulde he drye
Such wo for drede, ay whyl that he hit hadde,
That welnigh for the fere he shulde madde.
And whan hit was fro his possessioun,
Than had he double wo and passioun 255
For he so fair a tresor had forgo;
But yet this broche, as in conclusioun,
Was not the cause of this confusioun;
But he that wroghte hit enfortuned hit so,
That every wight that had hit shuld have wo; 260
And therfor in the worcher was the vyce,
And in the covetour that was so nyce.
So fareth hit by lovers and by me;
For thogh my lady have so gret beaute,
That I was mad til I had gete hir grace, 265
She was not cause of myn adversite,
But he that wroghte hir, also mot I thee,
That putte suche a beaute in hir face,
That made me to covete and purchace
Myn owne deth; him wyte I that I dye, 270
And myn unwit, that ever I clomb so hye.
_An Appeal for Sympathy. _
?
But to yow, hardy knightes of renoun,
Sin that ye be of my divisioun,
Al be I not worthy to so grete a name,
Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun; 275
Ther-for ye oghte have som compassioun
Of my disese, and take it noght a-game.
The proudest of yow may be mad ful tame;
Wherfor I prey yow, of your gentilesse,
That ye compleyne for myn hevinesse. 280
And ye, my ladies, that ben trewe and stable,
By way of kinde, ye oghten to be able
To have pite of folk that be in peyne:
Now have ye cause to clothe yow in sable;
Sith that your emperice, the honorable, 285
Is desolat, wel oghte ye to pleyne;
Now shuld your holy teres falle and reyne.
Alas! your honour and your emperice,
Nigh deed for drede, ne can hir not chevise.
Compleyneth eek, ye lovers, al in-fere, 290
For hir that, with unfeyned humble chere,
Was ever redy to do yow socour;
Compleyneth hir that ever hath had yow dere;
Compleyneth beaute, fredom, and manere;
Compleyneth hir that endeth your labour; 295
Compleyneth thilke ensample of al honour,
That never dide but al gentilesse;
Kytheth therfor on hir som kindenesse. ' 298
1. Ar. foules; Ju. fowles; T. fooles (! ); Harl. floures (_see_ l. 3); F.
Tn. lovers (_wrongly_).
