Imatges de pàgina
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"IN A SWAPPE."

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And in his swifte comynge brende, —

That so swithe gan descende, 30

As this foule when hyt behelde,

That I a-roume1 was in the felde;

And with hys grymme pawes stronge,

Withyn hys sharpe nayles longe,

Me, fleynge, in a swappe 2 he hente,

And with hys sours * a-gene up wente,

Me caryinge in his clawes starke,

As lyghtly as I were a larke,

How high, I cannot telle yow,

For I came up, I nyste how. 40

For so astonyed and a-sweved 4

Was every vertu in my heved,6

What with his sours and with my drede,

That al my felynge gan to dede ;1

For-whi hit was to grete affray.7

Thus I longe in hys clawes lay, Til at the last he to me spake In mannes vois, and seyde, "Awake I And be thou not a-gaste, for shame!" And callede me by my name. 50 And for I sholde the bet abreyde, Me mette,* " Awake," to me he seyde, Ryght in the same vois and stevene,' That useth oon I koude nevene ;10 And with that vois. soth for to seyne, My mynde came to me ageyne

1 Roaming. 'Swoop (sweep). 'Soaring. * Amazed, as in ■ beam. * Head "Grow dead. 'Fright. • Dreamed. • Ton* • Name.

For hit was goodely seyde to me,
So was hyt never wonte to be.

And herewithalle I gan to stere,
And he me in his fete to-bere, 60
Til that he felt that I had hete,1
And felte eke that myn herte bete.
And thoo gan he me to disporte,
And with wordes to comforte,
And sayede twyes, " Seynt Mary!
Thou arte noyouse 2 for to cary,
And nothynge nedith, pardee!
For, al-so wis God helpe me,
As thou noon harme shalt have of this;
And this caas that betydde the is, 70
Is for thy lore and for thy prowe,*
Let see! darst thou yet loke nowe?
Be ful assured, boldely,
.1 am thy frende." And therewith I
Gan for to wondren in my mynde.
"O God," thought I, "that madeste kynde/
Shal I noon other weyes dye?
Wher* Joves wol me stellefye,6
Or what thinge may this sygnifye?
I neyther am Ennok, ne Elye,7 80
Ne Romulus,* ne Ganymede,
That was ybore up, as men rede,
To hevene with daun Jupiter,
And rr ade the goddys botiller."

1 Heat. * Troublesome. "Profit. * Nature. 'Whether Make a star. 7 Cf. the Bible, and Inferno, ii. 32. • Romulus wM carried to heaven bv Mars.

A CONVERSATION.

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Loo, this was thoo my fantasye!
But he that bare me gan espye
That I so thoughte, and seyde this:
'' Thow demest of thy-selfe amys;
For Joves ys not theraboute, —
I dar wel put the out of doute, — 90
To make of the as yet a sterre.
But er I bere the moche ferre,1
I wol the telle what I am,*
And whider thou shalt, and why I cam
To do thys, so that thou take
Goode herte, and not tor fere quake."
"Gladly," quod I, "Now wel," quod he:
"First, I, that in my fete have the,
Of which thou haste a fere and wonder,
Am dwellynge with the god of thonder, 100
Whiche that men callen Jupiter,
That dooth me flee ful ofte fer *
To do al hys comaundement.
And for this cause he hath me sent
To the: now herke, be thy trouthe I
Certeyn he hath of the routhe,
That thou so longe trewely
Hast served so ententyfly
Hys blynde neviwe Cupido,
And faire Venus also, 110

Withoute guerdoun ever yitte,
And neverthelesse hast set thy witte —

- Farther. * Dante had a similar conversation. Infirno. ii. 40, Fu.

Although in thy hede ful lytel is —

To make songes, dytees, and bookys

In ryme, or elles in cadence,

As thou best canst in reverence

Of Love, and of hys servantes eke,

That have hys servyse soght, and seke;

And peynest the to preyse hys arte,

Although thou haddest never parte; no

Wherfore, al-so God me blesse,

Joves halt hyt grete humblesse,

And vettu eke, that thou wolt make

A nyghte ful ofte thyn hede to ake,

In thy studye so thou writest,

And evermo of love enditest,

In honour of hym and preysynges,

And in his folkes furtherynges,

And in hir matere al devisest,

And noght hym nor his folke dispisest, 130

Although thou maiste goo in the daunce

Of hem that hym lyst not avaunce.

"Wherfore, as I seyde, ywys, Jupiter considereth v/el this; And also, beau sir, other thynges; That is, that thou hast no tydynges Of Loves folke, yf they be glade, Ne of noght elles that God made; And noght oonly fro ferre contree, That ther no tydynge cometh to thee, 140 Not of thy verray neyghebors, That duellen almoste at thy dors,

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