TO HIS PURSE. 203 THE COMPLEYNTE OF CHAUCER TO HIS PURSE. To you, my purse, and to noon other wight For, certes, but-yf ye make me hevy chere, Me were as leef be layde upon my bere, For whiche unto your mercy thus I crye, Beeth hevy ageyne, or elles mote I dye ! Now voucheth sauf this day, or it be nyghte, Now, purse, that ben to me my lyves lyght And saveour, as doun in this worlde here, Oute of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght, Syn that ye wole not bene my tresorere; For I am shave as nye as is a frere. But I praye unto your curtesye, Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moote I dye! 1 Guide. L'Envoye de Chaucer. O conquerour of Brutes Albyoun,1 Whiche that by lygne and free eleccioun Been verray kynge,2 this song to you I sende, And ye that mowen alle myn harme amende, Have mynde upon my supplicacioun ! 1 The Albion of Brutus, a descendant of Æneas. King Henry IV. seems to be meant. s' May. THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE. MANY men sayen that in swevenynges, This That whylom mette kyng Cipioun. To wene that dremes after falle, Of good and harme to many wightes, age, Whan that love taketh his corage Of yonge folk, I wente soon ΙΟ 20 1 Macrobius. Cf. Parlement of Foules, 1. 31. joldeth. Dreamed. 5 Thinketh. 6 A joke or else an ignorance. Cf. House of Fame, ll. 1-65, and Canterbury Tales, 1. 8591. 2 Lies. 3 Un |