་་ WE WOL HAVE A PARLEMENT."

crie :

For love of the, as loude as I may
And then she began this songe ful hye,

66 I shrewe hem al that be to love untrewe." And when she hadde songen hit out to the

ende,

251

"Now fairewel," quoth she, "for I moste wende,

And god of Love, that can ryght wel and may, As mekil joy sende yow this day,

As ever yet he eny lover sende !”

Thus toke the nyghtyngale hir leve of me.
I pray to God he alway with her be,
And joy of love he sende her evermore,
And shilde us fro the cukkow and his lore,
For ther is non so fals a bridde as he.

Forthe she fley, the gentil nyghtyngale,
To alle the briddes that werene in the dale,
And gat hem alle into a place yn fere,
And hem besoughten that they wolden here
Her dysese, and thus began her tale.

260

"Ye knowe wel, hit is not fro yow hidde, How that the cukkow and I fast have chidde, Ever sithe that hit was dayes lyght;

I prey yow alle that ye do me ryght

Of that foule fals, unkynde bridde.”

270

Then spake oon brid for al, by oon assent: "This mater asketh good avysement;

For we be fewe briddes her in fere,

And soth hit ys, the cukkow is not here,

And therfore we wol have a parlement.

"And therat shal the egle be, our lorde,

1

And other perys 1 that ben of recorde,
And the cukkow shal be after ysent;
And ther shal be geven the jugement,
Or elles we shul make summe acorde.
"And this shal be, withouten any nay,
The morowe, Seynte Valentynes day,
Under the maple that is feire and grene,
Before the chambre window of the Quene,
At Wodestok upon the grene lay." 2

280

She thanked hem, and then her leve she

toke,

And fleye into an hawthorne by the broke,
And ther she sate and songe upon the tre,
"Terme of my lyve love hath withholde me,”
So loude that I with that song awoke.

290

O lewde boke, with thy foule rudenesse, Sith thou hast neyther beaute ne eloquence, Who hath the caused or geve the hardynesse For to appere in my ladyes presence?

8

I am ful siker thou knowest hyr benivolence, Ful agreable to alle hir obeyinge,

For of al goode she is the beste lyvynge.

Alas! that thou ne haddest worthynesse, To shewe to hir somme plesaunt sentence, Sithen that she hath, thorgh hir gentilesse, 300 Acceptede the servant to hir digne reverence!

1 Peers. 2 Grass land, lawn. Sure.

A GOODLY BALLADE OF CHAUCER.

565

O me repenteth that I ne hadde science,
And leyser als, to make the more florysshynge,
For of al goode she ys the beste lyvynge.
Beseche hir mekely with alle lowlynesse,
Though I be ferre from hir in absence,
To thenke on my trouthe and stidfastnesse,
And to abregge of my sorwes the violence,
Whiche caused ys, wherof knoweth your sapi-

ence,

She lyke1 amonge to notefye me hir lykynge; For of alle goode she is the beste lyvynge. 311

Lenvoye.

Aurore of gladnesse, and day of lustynesse, Lucerne2 a nyght with hevenly influence

Enlumyned, rote of beaute and goodenesse,
Suspiries which I effunde in silence!

8

4

Of grace, I beseche, alegge let your writynge Now of al goode, syth ye be beste lyvynge.

A GOODLY BALLADE OF CHAUCER.

MOTHER of norture, best beloved of alle, And fresshest flour, to whom good thrift God sende !

Your childe, if it lust you me so to calle,
Al be I unable my selfe so to pretende,

1 May please. Lamp. Sigh 4 Pour out.

To your discrecion I recommende

Myn herte and al, with every circumstance,
Al holy to be under your governaunce.

ΤΟ

Moste desire I, and have and ever shal, Thyng whiche might your hertes ease amende · Have me excused, my power is but smal; Nathelesse, of right, ye oughte to commende My goode wille, which fayne wolde entende To do you servyce; for al my suffysaunce Is holy to be under your governaunce.

Meulx un' in herte which never shal appalle, Aye fresshe and newe, and right glad to dispende My tyme in your service, what so befalle, Besechyng your excellence to defende My symplenesse, if ignoraunce offende In any wyse; sythe that myn affyaunce Is holy ben under your governaunce.

20

Daisy of lyght, very grounde of comforte, The Sonnes doughter ye hight, as I rede; For whan he westreth, farwel your disporte! By your nature anon, right for pure drede Of the rude night that with his boystous wede Of derkenesse shadoweth our emyspere, Than closen ye, my lives lady dere!

Dawnyng the Day to his kynde resorte, Lan Phebus your father with his stremes rede Adorneth the morowe, consumyng the sorte 3. Of misty cloudes that wolden overlede Trewe humble hertes with her mistyhede,

1 Better one. 2 Natural.

Nere comforte a-dayes, whan eyen clere
Disclose and sprede my lyves lady dere,-

Je vouldray,' but greate God disposeth
And maketh casuel, by his provydence,
Suche thyng as mannes frele witte purposeth,
Al for the best, if that our conscience
Nat grutche it, but in humble pacience
It receyve for God saythe withoute fable,
A faythful herte ever is acceptable.

Cautels 2 who so useth gladly, gloseth; To eschewe suche it is right high prudence; What ye sayd ones myn herte opposeth, That my writyng japes in your absence Pleased you moche better than my presence. Yet can I more ; ye be nat excusable, A faythful herte ever is acceptable.

8

40

Quaketh my penne; my spyrit supposeth 50 That in my writyng ye fynde wol some offence; Myn herte welkeneth 3 thus ; anon it ryseth ; Nowe hotte, nowe colde, and efte in fervence : That mysse is, is caused of neglygence, And not of malyce; therfore bethe mercyable; A faythful herte ever is acceptable.

LENVOYE.

Forthe, complaynt! forthe, lackyng eloquence! Forthe, lytle letter, of endytyng lame !

I have besought my ladyes sapyence

I would. Craft. Withereth. Wisdom.