No More Learning

Enamoured of me in youth's early tide
Erewhile was dame and damsel more than one:
For I with beauty coupled winning ways;
Though it becomes not man himself to praise.

XIII
"A sage within our city dwelled, a wight,
Beyond belief, in every science great;
Who, when he closed his eyes on Phoebus' light,
Numbered one hundred years, one score and eight:
A savage life he led and out of sight,
Until impelled by love, the senior late
By dint of gifts obtained a matron fair,
Who secretly to him a daughter bare;

XIV
"And to prevent the child from being won,
As was erewhile the mother, that for gain
Bartered her chastity, whose worth alone
Excels what gold earth's ample veins contain,
With her he from the ways of man is gone,
And where he spies the loneliest place, his train
Of demons forces, in enchantment skilled,
This dome so spacious, fair, and rich, to build.

XV
"By ancient and chaste dames he there made rear
This daughter, that in sovereign beauty grew;
Nor suffered her to see or even hear
A man beside himself; and, for her view,
-- Lest lights should lack, whereby her course to steer --
The senior every modest lady, who
E'er on unlawful love the barrier shut,
Made limn in picture, or in sculpture cut.

XVI
"Nor he alone those virtuous dames, who, sage
And chaste, had so adorned antiquity,
Whose fame, preserved by the historic page,
Is never doomed its dying day to see;
But those as well that will in future age
Everywhere beautify fair Italy,
Made fashion in their well-known form and mien;
As eight that round this fount by thee are seen.

XVII
"What time the damsel ripe for husband shows,
So that the fruit may now be gathered, I
(Did chance or my misfortune so dispose? )
Am worthiest found; and those broad lands that lie
Without the walls which that fair town enclose,
-- The fishy flat no less than upland dry --
Extending twenty miles about that water,
He gives me for a dowry, with his daughter.

XVIII
"She was so mannered, was so fair of hue,
None could desire she other gifts should bring;
So well to broider was she taught, and sew,
Minerva knew not better; did she sing,
Or play, or walk, to those that hear and view,
She seems a heavenly, and no mortal thing;
And in the liberal arts was skilled as well
As her own sire, or scarce behind him fell.

XIX
"With genius high and beauty no less bright,
Which might have served the very stones to move,
Such love, such sweetness did the maid unite,
Thinking thereof meseems my heart is clove.
She had no greater pleasure or delight
Than being with me, did I rest or rove.
Twas long ere we had any strife; in fine
We quarrelled; and the fault, alas! was mine.

XX
"Five years my consort's father had been dead,
Since to that yoke I stooped, and pledged my vow;
When in short time (the manner shall be said)
Began the sorrows that I feel even now.
While me with all his pinions overspread
Love of the dame, whose praises thus I blow,
A noble townswoman with love of me
Was smit; more sorely smitten none could be.

XXI
"She, in all magic versed, was of such skill
As never was enchantress; by her say
Moved solid earth, and made the sun stand still,
Illumined gloomy night and darkened day:
Yet never could she work upon my will,
With salve I could not give, except with scathe
Of her to whom erewhile I pledged my faith.

XXII
"Not because she right gentle was and bright,
Nor because I believed her love so true,
Nor for large gift, nor promise often plight,
Nor yet because she never ceased to sue,
Could she from me obtain one spark of light
From that first flame my gentle consort blew:
So mates and masters every will in me
The knowledge of my wife's fidelity.
XXIII
"I in the hope, belief, and certitude
My wife to me was faithful evermore,
Should with contempt the beauty have eschewed
Of that famed daughter which fair Leda bore;
And all the wit and wealth wherewith was wooed
The illustrious shepherd upon Ida hoar.
But no repulse withal with her avails,
Who me, for ever at my side, assails.

XXIV
"One day that me beyond my palace sees
That weird enchantress, who Melissa hight,
And where she can discourse with me at ease,
She finds a way whereby my peace to blight;
And, goading me with evil jealousies,
The faith I nursed at heart, she puts to flight.
She 'gan commending my intent to be
Faithful to her who faithful was to me.

XXV
" `But that she faithful is, ye cannot say,
Save of her faith ye have assurance true;
If she fails not withal, where fail she may,
She faithful, modest may be deemed by you:
But is she never from your side away,
Is not permitted other man to view,
How does this boldness come, that you would be
The warrant of her untried modesty?

XXVI
" `Go forth awhile; go forth come from home alone;
And be the bruit in town and village spread
That she remains behind, and you are gone;
Let lovers and let couriers have their head:
If, unpersuaded still by prayer and boon,
She does no outrage to the marriage bed;
Though doing so she deem herself unseen,
Then faithful you the dame may justly ween. '

XXVII
"I with such words and such-like words was plied,
Till so on me the shrewd enchantress wrought,
I wished to see my consort's virtue tried
By certain proof, and to the touchstone brought.
-- `Now grant we (I to that witch-lady cried)
She prove what cannot by myself be thought,
How by some certain token can I read
If she will merit punishment or meed? '

XXVIII
" `A drinking-cup will I for that assay
Give you (she said) of virtue strange and rare:
Such was for Arthur made by Morgue the fay,
To make him of Genevra's fault aware.
The chaste wife's lord thereof may drink; but they
Drink not, whose wedded partners wanton are:
For, when they would the cordial beverage sup,
Into their bosom overflows the cup.

XXIX
" `Below departing, you the test shall try,
And, to my thinking, now shall you drink clean;
For clean as yet I think your consort, I:
The event however shall by you be seen.
Yet will I warrant not your bosom dry,
Should you repeat the proof; for if, between
The cup and lip, the liquor be not shed,
You are the happiest wight that ever wed. '

XXX
"The offer I accept, the vase to me
Is given, and trial made with full success;
For hitherto (as hoped) confirmed I see
My gentle consort's worth and faithfulness.
'Leave her awhile (Melissa said), and be
A month or twain a truant, more or less:
Then homeward wend; again the goblet fill;
And prove if you the beverage drink or spill. '

XXXI
"I thought it hard to leave my consort's side;
Not as so much about her truth in pain,
As that I could nor for two days abide,
Nay, not an hour without her could remain.
`-- You in another way (Melissa cried)
Guided by me, the truth shall ascertain;
Voice, vesture shall you change; and to her sight
Present yourself, disguised like other wight.