A little time his yeft is greable,
But full accombrous is the vsing,
For subtel ielousie the deceiuable,
Full often time causeth distourbing,
Thus ben we euer in drede and suffring,
In no certaine, we languishen in penaunce,
And haue well oft many an hard mischance,
All the reuers of any glad feling.

But certes, Loue, I say not in soch wise,
That for to scape out of your lace I ment,
For I so long haue been in your seruice,
That for to lete of will I neuer assent,
No force though ielousie me tourment,
Suffiseth me to see him whan I may,
And therefore certes to my ending day,
To loue him best, shall me neuer repent.

And certes, Loue, whan I me well aduise,
Of any estate that man may represent,
Than haue ye made me through your franchise
Thefe the best that euer in earth went,
Now loue well herte, and look thou neuer stent,
And lette the iealous put it in assay,
That for no paine woll I not say nay,
To loue him best, shall I neuer repent.
Herte to thee it ought ynough suffice,
That Loue so high a grace to you sent,
To chose the worthies in all wise,
And most agreable vnto mine entent,
Seek no ferther, neither way ne went,
Sith ye haue suffisaunce vnto my pay,
Thus wol I end this complaining or this lay,
To loue him best shall I neuer repent.

LENUOY.

Princes receiueth this complaining in gree,
Unto your excellent benignite,
Direct after my litel suffisaunce,

For elde, that in my spirite dulleth mee,
Hath of enditing all the subtelte

Welnigh berafte out of my remembraunce:
And eke to me it is a great penaunce,
Sith rime in English hath soch scarcite,
To folow word by word the curiosite

Of Gransonflour, of hem that make in Fraunce.

EXPLICIT.

OF THE

CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTINGALE.

Chaucer dreameth that he heareth the cuckow and the nightingale contend for excellency in singing.

THE god of love and benedicite,

How mighty and how great a lord is he,
For he can make of low hertes hy,
And of high low, and like for to dy,
And hard hertes he can maken free.

He can make within a little stound
Of sicke folke hole, fresh, and sound,
And of hole he can make seeke,
He can bind and vnbinden eke
That he woll have bounden or vnbound.

To tell his might my wit may not suffice,
For he can make of wise folke full nice,
For he may do all that he woll devise,
And lithy folke to destroyen vice,
And proud hertes he can make agrise.

Shortly all that ever he woll he may,
Against him dare no wight say nay,

For he can glad and greve whom him liketh,
And who that he woll, he longheth or siketh,
And most his might he shedeth ever in May.

For every true gentle herte free,
That with him is or thinketh for to be,
Againe May now shall have some stering,
Or to joy or els to some mourning,
In no season so much, as thinketh me.

For whan they may here the birds sing,
And see the floures and the leaves spring,
That bringeth into hir remembraunce
A manner ease, medled with grevaunce,
And lustie thoughts full of great longing.

And of that longing commeth hevinesse,
And thereof groweth of great sicknesse,
And for lacke of that that they desire,
And thus in May ben hertes set on fire,
So that they brennen forth in great distresse.

I speake this of feeling truly,
If I be old and vnlusty,

Yet I have felt of the sicknesse through May
Both hote and cold, and axes every day,
How sore ywis there wote no wight but I.

I am so shaken with the fevers white,
Of all this May sleepe I but a lite,
And also it is not like to me,
That any herte should sleepy be,

In whom that Love his firy dart woll smite.

But as I lay this other night waking,
I thought how lovers had a tokening,
And among hem it was a commune tale,
That it were good to here the nightingale,
Rather than the leud cuckow sing.

And than I thought anon as it was day,
I would go some where to assay
If that I might a nightingale here,
For yet had I none heard of all that yere,
And it was tho the third night of May.

And anone as I the day aspide,
No lenger would I in my bed abide,
But vnto a wood that was fast by,
I went forth alone boldely,
And held the way downe by a brooke side.

Till I came to a laund of white and green,
So faire one had I never in been,
The ground was green, ypoudred with daisie,
The floures and the greues like by,
All greene and white, was nothing els seene.

There sate I downe among the faire flours,
And saw the birds trip out of hir bours,
There as they rested hem all the night,
They were so joyfull of the dayes light,
They began of May for to done honours,

"For euermore Loue his seruants amendeth,
And from all euill taches hem defendeth,
And maketh hem to brenne right in a fire,
In trouth and in worshipfull desire,

And whan him liketh, joy inough hem sendeth."

"Thou nightingale" he said, "be still,
For Loue hath no reason, but it is will,
For oft time vntrue folke he easeth,
And true folke so biterly he displeaseth,
That for default of courage he let hem spill."

Than tooke I of the nightingale keepe,
How she cast a sigh out of her deepe,
And said, "Alas that euer I was bore,
I can for tene not say one word more,"
And right with that word she brast out to weepe.

"Alas" (quod she) "my herte woll to breake,
To hearen thus this leaud bird speake
Of Loue, and of his worshipfull seruise,
Now God of loue thou help me in some wise,
That I may on this cuckow been awreake."

Me thought than he stert vp anone,
And glad was I that he was agone,
And euermore the cuckow as he flay,
Said "Farewell, farewell popingay,"
As though he had scorned me alone.

And than came the nightingale to mee,
And said, "Friend forsooth I thanke thee,
That thou hast liked me to rescow,
And one auow to loue make I now,
That all this May I woll thy singer be."

I thanked her, and was right well apaied:
"Ye" (quod she)" and be thou not dismaied,
Tho thou haue herd the cuckow erst than me,
For if I liue, it shall amended be
The next May, if I be not affraied.

"And one thing I woll rede thee also,

Ne leue thou not the cuckow, ne his loues so,
For all that he hath said is strong leasing:"
"Nay" (quod I) "thereto shall nothing me bring,
For loue and it hath doe me much wo.

"Ye, vse" (quod she) "this medicine
Euery day this May or thou dine,
Go looke vpon the fresh daisie,
And though thou be for wo in point to die,
That shall full greatly lessen thee of thy pine.

"And looke alway that thou be good and trew,
And I woll sing one of the songs new
For loue of thee, as loud as I may crie:"
And than she began this song full hie,
"I shrew all hem that been of loue vntrue."

And whan she had song it to the end,
"Now farewell" (quod she) "for I mote wend,
And god of loue, that can right well, and may,
As much joy send thee this day,
As any yet louer he euer send."

Thus taketh the nightingale her leaue of me,
I pray to God alway with her be,
And joy of loue he send her euermore,
And shilde us fro the cuckow and his lore,
For there is not so false a bird as he.

Forth she flew the gentle nightingale
To all the birds that were in that dale,
And gate hem all into a place in fere,
And besoughten hem that they would here
Her disease, and thus began her tale.

"The cuckow, well it is not for to hide,
How the cuckow and I fast haue chide,
Euer sithen it was day light,

I pray you all that ye do me right
On that foule false vnkind bridde."

Than spake o bird for all, by one assent,
"This matter asketh good auisement,
For we ben birdes here in fere,
And sooth it is, the cuckow is not here,
And therefore we woll haue a parliment.

"And thereat shall the egle be our lord,
And other peres that been of record,
And the cuckow shall be after sent,
There shall be yeue the judgement,
Or els we shall finally make accord.

"And this shall be without nay
The morrow after saint Ualentines day,
Under a maple that is faire and grene,
Before the chamber window of the quene,
At Woodstocke vpon the grene lay."

She thanked hem, and than her leaue toke,
And into an hauthorne by that broke,
And there she sate and song vpon that tree,
"Terme of life loue hath withhold me,"
So loud that I with that song awoke.

EXPLICIT.

LEUD book with thy foule rudenesse,
Sith thou haste neither beauty ne eloquence.
Who hath thee caused or yeue the hardinesse
For to appeare in my ladies presence,

I am full siker thou knowest her beneuolence,
Full agreeable to all her abying,
For of all good she is the best liuing.

Alas that thou ne haddest worthinesse,
To shew to her some pleasaunt sentence,
Sith that she hath through her gentillesse
Accepted the seruant to her digne reuerence,
O, me repenteth that I ne had science
And leiser als, to make thee more flourishing,
For of all good she is the best liuing.

Beseech her meekely with all lowlinesse,
Though I be ferre from her in absence,
To think on my trouth to her and stedfastnesse,
And to abridge of my sorrowes the violence,
Which caused is, wherof knoweth your sapience,
She like among to notifie me her liking
For of all good she is the best liuing.

LANUOYE.

AURORE of gladnesse, and day of lustinesse,
Lucern a night with heauenly influence
Illumined, root of beauty and goodnesse,
Suspires which I effunde in silence,
Of grace I beseech alledge let your writing,
Now of all good, sith ye be best liuing.

EXPLICIT.

THE COURT OF LOVE.

This book is an imitation of the Romaunt of the Rose, shewing that all are subject to love, what impediments soever to the contrary: containing also those twenty statutes which are to be observed in the Court of Love.

There Citherea goddesse was and quene:
Honoured highly for her majeste,
And eke her sonne, the mighty god I wene,
Cupide the blind, that for his dignite
A M. louers worship on their kne,
There was I bid in paine of death to pere,
By Mercury the winged messengere.

So than I went by strange and fer countrees,
Enquiring aye what coast had to it drew
The Court of Loue: and thiderward as bees,
At last I see the people gan pursue:

Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the floure of porte in womanhede
I write, as he that none intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence:
Saufe that me list my writing to conuey,
In that I can to please her high nobley.
The blosomes fresh of Tullius gardein soot
Present they not, my matter for to born:
Poemes of Uirgil taken here no root,
Ne craft of Galfride, may not here sojourn:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I mourn
For lacke of science, that I cannat write
Unto the princes of my life aright.

No tearmes digne vnto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reuerence
There is in her, this will I testifie,
Caliope thou suster wise and slie,
And thou Minerua, guide me with thy grace,
That language rude, my matter not deface.

Thy suger dropes sweet of Helicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse I pray,
And thee Melpomene I call anone,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chase away:
And giue me grace so for to write and say,
That she my lady of her worthinesse
Accept in gree this little short treatesse,

That is entituled thus, The Court of Loue:
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you beseech for Uenus sake aboue,
For what I mean in this, ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse

For lacke of ornate speech, I would be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.

But my entent and all my busie cure
Is for to write this treatesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Faithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in seruice as her man :
To her be all the pleasure of this book,
That whan her like she may it rede and look.

WHAN I was young, at eighteene yeare of age,
Lusty and light, desirous of pleasaunce,
Approching on full sadde and ripe courage,
Loue arted me to do my obseruaunce,
To his estate, and done him obeisaunce,
Commaunding me the Court of Loue to see,
Alite beside the mount of Citharee.

Anone as I them ouertooke, I said: "Heile friends, whither purpose ye to wend" "Forsooth" (quod one) that answered liche a maid, "To Loues Court now go we gentle friend." "Where is that place" (quod I) "my fellow hend?" "At Citheron, sir," said he, "without dout, The king of loue, and all his noble rout,

"Dwelleth within a castle rially."
So than apace I journed forth among,
And as he said, so fond I there truly :
For I beheld the toures high and strong,
And high pinacles, large of hight and long,
With plate of gold bespred on euery side,
And precious stones, the stone werke for to hide.

No saphire in Inde, uo rube rich of price,
There lacked than, nor emeraud so grene,
Bales Turkes, ne thing to my deuice,
That may the castle maken for to shene:
All was as bright as sterres in winter bene,
And Phebus shone to make his peace ageine,
For trespas done to high estates tweine.

Uenus and Mars, the god and goddesse clere,
Whan he them found in armes cheined fast,
Uenus was than full sad of herte and chere:
But Phebus beams streight as is the mast,
Upon the castle ginneth he to cast,
To please the lady, princes of that place,
In signe he looketh after Loues grace.

For there nis god in Heauen or Hell ywis,
But he hath ben right soget vnto Loue:
Joue, Pluto, or whatsoever he is,
Ne creature in yearth, or yet aboue,
Of these the reuers may no wight approue:
But furthermore, the castle to descrie,
Yet saw I neuer none so large and hie.
For vnto Heauen it stretcheth, I suppose,
Within and out depeinted wonderly,
With many a thousand daisie rede as rose,
And white also this saw I verely:
But who tho daisies might do signifie,
Can I not tell, safe that the quenes floure,
Alceste it was that kept there her sojoure:

Which vnder Uenus lady was and quene,
And Admete king and soueraine of that place,
To whom obeied the ladies good ninetene,
With many a thousand other bright of face:
And yong men fele came forth with lusty pace,
And aged eke, their homage to dispose,
But what they were, I coud not well disclose.

Yet nere and nere forth in I gan me dress
Into an hall of noble apparaile,
With arras spred, and cloth of gold I gesse,
And other silke of esyer auaile:

Under the cloth of their estate sauns faile
The king and quene there sat as I beheld:
It passed joy of Helise the field.

There saints haue their comming and resort,
To seene the king so rially beseine

In purple clad, and eke the quene in sort,
And on their heads saw I crownes tweine,
With stones fret, so that it was no paine,
Withouten meat and drink to stand and see
The kinges honour and the rialtee.

And for to treat of states with the king,
That ben of councel cheef, and with the quene:
The king had Danger nere to him standing,
The quene of loue, Disdain, and that was sene:
For by the faith I shall to God, I wene
Was neuer straunger none in her degree,
Than was the quene in casting of her eye.

And as I stood perceiuing her apart,

"For ye that reigne in youth and lustinesse,
Pampired with ease, and jalous in your age,
Your duty is, as ferre as I can gesse,
To Loues Court to dressen your viage,
As soone as nature maketh you so sage,
That ye may know a woman from a swan,
Or whan your foot is growen halfe a span.

"But sith that ye by wilfull negligence
This eighteene year hath kept your self at large,
The greater is your trespas and offence,
And in your neck you mote bere all the charge:
For better were ye ben withouten barge
Amidde the sea in tempest and in raine,
Than biden here, receiuing wo and paine

"That ordained is for such as them absent
Fro Loues Court by yeres long and fele.

I ley my life ye shall full soone repent,

For Loue will reiue your colour, lust, and hele:
Eke ye must bait on many an beauy mele:
No force ywis: I stirred you long agone
To draw to court" (quod little) Philobone.

"O bright regina, who made thee so faire?
Who made thy colour vermelet and white?
Wher wonneth that god, how far aboue the aire?
Great was his craft, and great was his delite.
Now maruell I nothing that ye do hight
The quene of loue, and occupie the place
Of Cithare now sweet lady thy grace."

In mewet spake I so, that nought astart
By no condition word, that might be hard:
But in my inward thought I gan aduert;
And oft I said "My wit is dull and hard:"
For with her beauty, thus God wot I ferde,
As doth the man yrauished with sight,
Whan I beheld her cristall eyen so bright:

No respect hauing what was best to done,
Till right anone beholding here and there,
I spied a friend of mine, and that full sone,
A gentlewoman was the chamberere
Unto the quene, that hote as ye shall here,
Philobone, that loued all her life:
Whan she me sey, she led me forth as blife;

And me demanded how and in what wise
I thither come, and what my errand was?
"To seen the court" (quod I)" and all the guise,
And eke to sue for pardon and for grace,
And mercy aske for all my great trespas,
That I none erst come to the Court of Loue:
Foryeue me this, ye gods all aboue."

"That is well said" (quod Philobone) "indede:
But were ye not assomoned to appere
By Mercurius, for that is all my drede:"
"Yes gentill feire" (quod 1) "now am I here,
Ye yet what tho though that be true my dere:"
"Of your free will ye should haue come vnsent,
For ye did not, I deme ye will be shent.

For well I wote it woll none other be,
Comfort is none, ne counsali to your ease,
Why will ye than the king of loue displease?"

"O mercy God" (quod iche) "I me repent,
Caitife and wretch in herte, in will and thought,
And after this shall be mine hole entent
To serue and please, how dere that loue be bought:
Yet sith I baue mine own pennance ysought,
With humble sprite shall I it receiue,
Though that the king of loue my life bereiue.

"And though that feruent loues qualite
In me did neuer wortch truly: yet I
With all obeisaunce and humilite,
And benigne herte shall serue him till I die :
And he that lord of might is great and hie,
Right as him list me chastice and correct,
And punish me with trespace thus infect.”

These wordes said, she caught me by the lap,
And led me forth in till a temple round,
Both large and wide: and as my blessed hap
And good auenture was, right soone I found
A tabernacle reised from the ground,
Where Uenus sat, and Cupide by her side,
Yet halfe for drede I can my visage hide.

And eft againe I looked and beheld,
Seeing full sundry people in the place,
And mister folke, and some that might not weld
Their lims wele, me thought a wonder case,
The temple shone with windows all of glass,
Bright as the day, with many a fair image,
And there I see the fresh quene of Cartage

Dido, that brent her beauty for the loue
Of false Eneas, and the weimenting
Of her Annelida, true as turtie doue,
To Arcite fals: aud there was in peinting
Of many a prince, and many a doughty king,
Whose martirdom was shewed about the wals
And how that fele for loue had suffred fals.