No More Learning

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L'avoit ame plus que riens nee.
El fu par lui si mal menee
Qu'ele li dist qu'il li donroit
S'amor, ou ele se morroit.
Mes cis fu por sa grant biaute
Plains de desdaing et de fierte,
Si ne la li volt otroier,
Ne por chuer, ne por proier. 1460
Quant ele s'oi escondire,
Si en ot tel duel et tel ire,
Et le tint en si grant despit,
Que morte en fu sans lonc respit;
Mes aincois qu'ele se morist,
Ele pria Diex et requist
Que Narcisus au cuer ferasche,
Qu'ele ot trove d'amors si flasche,
Fust asproies encore ung jor,
Et eschaufes d'autel amor 1470
Dont il ne peust joie atendre;
Si porroit savoir et entendre
Quel duel ont li loial amant
Que l'en refuse si vilment.

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This prayer was but resonable,
Therefor god held it ferme and stable: 1500
For Narcisus, shortly to telle,
By aventure com to that welle
To reste him in that shadowing
A day, whan he com fro hunting.
This Narcisus had suffred paynes 1505
For renning alday in the playnes,
And was for thurst in greet distresse
Of hete, and of his werinesse
That hadde his breeth almost binomen.
Whan he was to that welle y-comen, 1510
That shadwed was with braunches grene,
He thoughte of thilke water shene
To drinke and fresshe him wel withalle;
And doun on knees he gan to falle,
And forth his heed and nekke out-straughte 1515
To drinken of that welle a draughte
And in the water anoon was sene
His nose, his mouth, his yen shene,
And he ther-of was al abasshed;
His owne shadowe had him bitrasshed. 1520
For wel wende he the forme see
Of a child of greet beautee.

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Cele proiere fu resnable,
Et por ce la fist Diex estable,
Que Narcisus, par aventure,
A la fontaine clere et pure
Se vint sous le pin umbroier,
Ung jour qu'il venoit d'archoier, 1480
Et avoit soffert grant travail
De corre et amont et aval,
Tant qu'il ot soif por l'asprete
Du chault, et por la lassete
Qui li ot tolue l'alaine.
Et quant il vint a la fontaine
Que li pins de ses rains covroit,
Il se pensa que il bevroit:
Sus la fontaine, tout adens
Se mist lors por boivre dedans. 1490
Si vit en l'iaue clere et nete
Son vis, son nes et sa bouchete,
Et cis maintenant s'esbahi;
Car ses umbres l'ot si trahi,
Que cuida veoir la figure
D'ung enfant bel a desmesure.

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Wel couthe Love him wreke tho
Of daunger and of pryde also,
That Narcisus somtyme him bere. 1525
He quitte him wel his guerdon there;
For he so musede in the welle,
That, shortly al the sothe to telle,
He lovede his owne shadowe so,
That atte laste he starf for wo. 1530
For whan he saugh that he his wille
Mighte in no maner wey fulfille,
And that he was so faste caught
That he him couthe comfort naught,
He loste his wit right in that place, 1535
And deyde within a litel space.
And thus his warisoun he took
For the lady that he forsook.
Ladyes, I preye ensample taketh,
Ye that ayeins your love mistaketh: 1540
For if hir deeth be yow to wyte,
God can ful wel your whyle quyte.
Whan that this lettre, of whiche I telle,
Had taught me that it was the welle
Of Narcisus in his beautee, 1545
I gan anoon withdrawe me,

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Lors se sot bien Amors vengier
Du grant orguel et du dangier
Que Narcisus li ot mene.
Lors li fu bien guerredone, 1500
Qu'il musa tant a la fontaine,
Qu'il ama son umbre demaine,
Si en fu mors a la parclose.
Ce est la somme de la chose:
Car quant il vit qu'il ne porroit
Acomplir ce qu'il desirroit,
Et qu'il i fu si pris par sort,
Qu'il n'en pooit avoir confort
En nule guise, n'en nul sens,
Il perdi d'ire tout le sens, 1510
Et fu mors en poi de termine.
Ainsinc si ot de la meschine
Qu'il avoit d'amors escondite,
Son guerredon et sa merite.
Dames, cest exemple aprenes,
Qui vers vos amis mesprenes;
Car se vous les lessies morir,
Diex le vous sara bien merir.
Quant li escris m'ot fait savoir
Que ce estoit tretout por voir 1520
La fontaine au biau Narcisus,
Je m'en trais lors ung poi en sus,

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Whan it fel in my remembraunce,
That him bitidde swich mischaunce.
But at the laste than thoughte I,
That scatheles, ful sikerly, 1550
I mighte unto THE WELLE go. THE WELLE.
Wherof shulde I abasshen so?
Unto the welle than wente I me,
And doun I louted for to see
The clere water in the stoon, 1555
And eek the gravel, which that shoon
Down in the botme, as silver fyn;
For of the welle, this is the fyn,
In world is noon so cleer of hewe.
The water is ever fresh and newe 1560
That welmeth up with wawes brighte
The mountance of two finger highte.
Abouten it is gras springing,
For moiste so thikke and wel lyking,
That it ne may in winter dye, 1565
No more than may the see be drye.
Down at the botme set saw I
Two cristal stones craftely
In thilke fresshe and faire welle.
But o thing soothly dar I telle, 1570

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Que dedens n'osai regarder,
Ains commencai a coarder,
Quant de Narcisus me sovint,
Cui malement en mesavint;
Mes ge me pensai qu'asseur,
Sans paor de maves eur,
A la fontaine aler pooie,
Por folie m'en esmaioie. 1530
De la fontaine m'apressai,
Quant ge fui pres, si m'abessai
Por veoir l'iaue qui coroit,
Et la gravele qui paroit
Au fons plus clere qu'argens fins,
De la fontaine c'est la fins.