No More Learning

'
And therwith-al the tercel gan she calle, 405
And seyde, 'my sone, the choys is to thee falle.

But natheles, in this condicioun
Mot be the choys of everich that is here,
That she agree to his eleccioun,
Who-so he be that shulde been hir fere; 410
This is our usage alwey, fro yeer to yere;
And who so may at this time have his grace,
In blisful tyme he com in-to this place. '

With hed enclyned and with ful humble chere
This royal tercel spak and taried nought; 415
Unto my sovereyn lady, and noght my fere,
I chese, and chese with wille and herte and thought,
The formel on your hond so wel y-wrought,
Whos I am al and ever wol hir serve,
Do what hir list, to do me live or sterve. 420

Beseching hir of mercy and of grace,
As she that is my lady sovereyne;
Or let me dye present in this place.
For certes, long may I not live in peyne;
For in myn herte is corven every veyne; 425
Having reward only to my trouthe,
My dere herte, have on my wo som routhe.

And if that I to hir be founde untrewe,
Disobeysaunt, or wilful negligent,
Avauntour, or in proces love a newe, 430
I pray to you this be my Iugement,
That with these foules I be al to-rent,
That ilke day that ever she me finde
To hir untrewe, or in my gilte unkinde.

And sin that noon loveth hir so wel as I, 435
Al be she never of love me behette,
Than oghte she be myn thourgh hir mercy,
For other bond can I noon on hir knette.
For never, for no wo, ne shal I lette
To serven hir, how fer so that she wende; 440
Sey what yow list, my tale is at an ende. '

Right as the fresshe, rede rose newe
Ayen the somer-sonne coloured is,
Right so for shame al wexen gan the hewe
Of this formel, whan she herde al this; 445
She neyther answerde 'wel,' ne seyde amis,
So sore abasshed was she, til that Nature
Seyde, 'doghter, drede yow noght, I yow assure. '

Another tercel egle spak anoon
Of lower kinde, and seyde, 'that shal not be; 450
I love hir bet than ye do, by seynt Iohn,
Or atte leste I love hir as wel as ye;
And lenger have served hir, in my degree,
And if she shulde have loved for long loving,
To me allone had been the guerdoning. 455

I dar eek seye, if she me finde fals,
Unkinde, Iangler, or rebel any wyse,
Or Ialous, do me hongen by the hals!
And but I bere me in hir servyse
As wel as that my wit can me suffyse, 460
Fro poynt to poynt, hir honour for to save,
Tak she my lyf, and al the good I have. '

The thridde tercel egle answerde tho,
Now, sirs, ye seen the litel leyser here;
For every foul cryeth out to been a-go 465
Forth with his make, or with his lady dere;
And eek Nature hir-self ne wol nought here,
For tarying here, noght half that I wolde seye;
And but I speke, I mot for sorwe deye.

Of long servyse avaunte I me no-thing, 470
But as possible is me to dye to-day
For wo, as he that hath ben languisshing
Thise twenty winter, and wel happen may
A man may serven bet and more to pay
In half a yere, al-though hit were no more, 475
Than som man doth that hath served ful yore.

I ne say not this by me, for I ne can
Do no servyse that may my lady plese;
But I dar seyn, I am hir trewest man
As to my dome, and feynest wolde hir ese; 480
At shorte wordes, til that deth me sese,
I wol ben hires, whether I wake or winke,
And trewe in al that herte may bethinke.
'

Of al my lyf, sin that day I was born,
So gentil plee in love or other thing 485
Ne herde never no man me beforn,
Who-[so] that hadde leyser and cunning
For to reherse hir chere and hir speking;
And from the morwe gan this speche laste
Til dounward drow the sonne wonder faste. 490

The noyse of foules for to ben delivered
So loude rong, 'have doon and let us wende! '
That wel wende I the wode had al to-shivered.
Come of! ' they cryde, 'allas! ye wil us shende!
Whan shal your cursed pleding have an ende? 495
How shulde a Iuge eyther party leve,
For yee or nay, with-outen any preve? '

The goos, the cokkow, and the doke also
So cryden 'kek, kek! ' 'kukkow! ' 'quek, quek! ' hye,
That thorgh myn eres the noyse wente tho. 500
The goos seyde, 'al this nis not worth a flye!
But I can shape hereof a remedye,
And I wol sey my verdit faire and swythe
For water-foul, who-so be wrooth or blythe. '

'And I for worm-foul,' seyde the fool cukkow, 505
For I wol, of myn owne auctorite,
For comune spede, take the charge now,
For to delivere us is gret charite. '
Ye may abyde a whyle yet, parde!