FALSE-SEMBLANT SEEMETH GOOD. But now alle other wise wote he. Fals-semblant proveth so this thing, 475 7670 “Ryght heere anoon thou shalt be shryven And sey thy synne withoute more ; Of this shalt thou repente sore; "And, God wote, I have of thee That youre prelatis pen not so wise, 7680 7690 Inclination. 2 Power. Ne half so lettred as am I. I am licenced boldely, In divinitie for to rede, And to confessen, out of drede. And leave your synnes more and lesse, "1 And ye shal have absolucion.” THE COURT OF LOVE.2 WITH tymeros hert and tremlyng hand o! drede, Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence, The blosmes fresshe of Tullius 3 garden soote 5 10 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. Brighten. 5 Geoffrey dr Vinsauf, author of a work on poetry. Why nam I cunning? O wel may I morne, No termys digne unto her excellence, 1 So is she sprong of noble stirpe 1 and high · A world of honoure and of reverence There is in her, this wille I testifie. And thowe Mynerva, guyde me with thy grace. Thy suger dropes swete of Elicon That is entitled thus, The Courte of Love. For lak of ornat speche, I wold be woo, But myne entent and all my besy cure 1 Race. Favor. Liege man. 21 30 40 To her be all the pleasure of this boke, There Citherea3 goddesse was and quene 50 Honowred highly for her majestie; And eke her sonne, the myghty god, I wene, So than I wente be straunge and ferre con trees, Enquiryng ay whate costes that to it drewe The Courte of Love: and thiderward, as bees, At last I se the peple gan pursue : 60 Anon me thoughte som wight was there that knewe Where that the courte was holden, ferre or nye, And aftir them fulle faste I gan me hie. 86 Anone as I them overtoke, I seide, "Haile, frendes! whider purpose ye to wende? Forsothe," quod one that aunswerede lich a mayde, 1 Grave. Gave me skill. That is, Venus. 479 39 HIGHE PYNACLES." To Loves Courte nowe goo we, gentill frend." "Where is that place," quod I, "my felowe hende?" 1 At Citheron, sir," seid he, " withoute dowte, All was as bright as sterres in wynter bene; Venus and Mars, the god and goddesse clere, When he them founde in armes cheyned faste Venus was than full sad of harte and chere. But Phebus bemes, streight as is the maste, Upon the castell gynith he to caste, To please the lady, princesse of that place, 90 In sign he loketh aftir Loves grace. For there nys god in Heven or Helle, iwis, But he hath ben right soget unto Love: Jove, Pluto, or whatesoever he is, Courteous. Bastard rubies. See Homer's Odyssey, viii. 266 |