Imatges de pàgina
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For thou shalt for this synne dwelle
Right in the devels ers of helle,1
But-if that thou repente thee."

"Mafay, thou liest falsly!" quod he.2 7580 "What? welcome, with myschaunce nowe ! Have I therfore i-herberd yowe

To seye me shame, and eke reprove?
With sory happe to youre bihove,
Am I to day youre herbergere!

Go, herber yow elles-where than heere,
That han a lyer callede me.

make?

Two tregetours* art thou and he,
That in myn hous do me this shame,
And for my sothe-saugh ye me blame.
"Is this the sermoun that ye
To alle the develles I me take,
Or elles, God, thou me confounde,
But er men diden this castel founde,
It passith not ten daies or twelve,
But it was tolde right to my selve,
And as they seide, right so tolde I,
He kyste the rose pryvyly.

"Thus seide I now, and have seid yore;

I not 5 where he dide ony more.

Why shulde men sey me such a thyng,
If it ne hadde bene gabbyng?
Ryght so seide I, and wole seye yit ;

I trowe I liede not of it,

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1 The coarseness is English. Cf. Canterbury Tales, 1. 11,732 That is, Wikked-tonge. 3 Lodge. Tricksters. 5 Know not.

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And with my bemes 1 I wole blowe
To alle neighboris a-rowe,

How he hath bothe comen and gone."

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Tho spake Fals-semblant right anone,
Alle is not gospel, oute of doute,

That men seyn in the towne aboute ;
Ley no deef ere to my spekyng,
I swere yow, sir, it is gabbyng.
I trowe ye wote wel certeynly,
That no man loveth hym tenderly,
That seith hym harme, if he wote it,
Alle be he never so pore of wit.
And soth is also sikerly,

This knowe ye, sir, as wel as I, –

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That lovers gladly wole visiten

The places there her loves habiten.

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"This man yow loveth and eke honoureth;

This man to serve you laboureth ;
And clepith you his freend so deere,
And this man makith you good chere,
And every where that you meteth,
He yow saloweth, and he you greteth.
He preseth not so ofte, that ye
Ought of his come 2 encombred be;
Ther presen other folk on yow
Fulle ofter than he doth now.
And if his herte hym streynede so
Unto the rose for to go,

Ye shulde hym sene so ofte, nede,3

1 Trumpets. Cf. Canterbury Tales, 1. 9010. 2 Coming. asarily.

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That ye shulde take hym with the dede;1
He cowde his comyng not forbere,
Though ye hym thirlled 2 with a spere ;
It nere not thanne as it is now.

"But trustith wel, I swere it yow,
That it is clene out of his thought.
Sir, certis, he ne thenkith it nought;
No more ne doth Faire-welcomyng,
That sore abieth 3 al this thing.
And if they were of oon assent,

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Fulle soone were the rose hent,
The maugre youres,* wolde be.

"And, sir, of o thing herkeneth me: Sith ye this man, that loveth yow,

Han seid such harme and shame, now
Witeth wel, if he gessed it,

Ye may wel demen in youre wit,
He nolde no thyng love you so,
Ne callen you his freende also,
But nyght and day he wole wake,5
The castelle to destroie and take,
If it were soth as ye devise ;

Or some man in some maner wise
Might it warne hym everydele,

Or by hym-silf perceyven wele.

For sith he myghte not come and gone
As he was whilom wont to done,

He myght it sone wite and see;

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1 Legal term: "in the manner." 2 Pierced. 3 Suffereth for In spite of you. 5 Watch.

FALSE-SEMBLANT SEEMETH GOOD.

But now alle other wise wote he.

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Thanne have ye, sir, al outerly
Deserved helle, and jolyly
The deth of helle douteles,
That thrallen folk so gilteles."

Fals-semblant proveth so this thing,
That he can noon answeryng,
And seth alwey such apparaunce,
That nygh he fel in repentaunce,
And seide hym, "Sir, it may wel be;
Semblant, a good man semen ye;
And, Abstinence, fulle wise ye seme;
Of o talent1 you bothe I deme.

What counceil wole ye to me geven?"

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Ryght heere anoon thou shalt be shryven

And sey thy synne withoute more;

Of this shalt thou repente sore;
For I am prest, and have pouste,2
To shryve folk of most dignyte
That ben as wide as world may dure.
Of alle this world I have the cure,
And that hadde never yit persoun,
Ne vicarie of no maner toun.

"And, God wote, I have of thee
A thosand tyme more pitee
Than hath thi preest parochial,
Though he thy freend be special.
I have avauntage, in o wise,
That youre prelatis ben not so wise,

1 Inclination. 2 Power.

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Ne half so lettred as am I.

I am licenced boldely,

In divinitie for to rede,

And to confessen, out of drede.
If ye wolle you nowe confesse,
And leave your synnes more and lesse,
Without abode, knele downe anon,
And ye shal have absolucion.” 1

THE COURT OF LOVE.2

WITH tymeros hert and tremlyng hand of drede,

Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of poort in womanhede
I write, as he that none intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.

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The blosmes fresshe of Tullius 3 garden soote Present them not, my matere for to borne : * Poemys of Virgile taken here no rote, Ne crafte of Galfride 5 may not here sojorne:

ΙΟ

1 The version ends at line 12,563 of the French poem, leaving 9510 lines of the original untranslated. The scene above, cut short in the translation, ends thus in the original: Wikked-tunge kneels, Abstinence chokes him with a handkerchief twisted about his throat, causing his tongue to protrude, and this is immediately cut off by False-semblant. At the end of the poem the lover has obtained the Rose, for which he thanks Venus, Cupid, and all the barons who had helped him. Day then arrives, and the dreamer awakes from his sleep. 2 Mr. Skeat says that the original manuscript of this poem is now in the library of Trinity College, and that it was written at about 1500, the poem being more unlike Chaucer than any other attributed to him. 3 Cicero's. 4 Brighten. Geoffrey de Vinsauf, author of a work on poetry.

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