THE BOKE OF THE DUCHESSE.
[The following passage is given as a specimen of Chaucer's earliest or French period. The date is 1369.]
Me thoghtë thus, that hyt was May,
And in the dawnynge, ther I lay,
Me mette1 thus in my bed al naked,
And loked forth, for I was waked
With smale foulës, a grete hepe,
That had afrayed me out of slepe,
Thorgh noyse and swetnesse of her songe.
And as me mette, they sate amonge
Upon my chambre roof wythoute,
Upon the tylës al aboute;
And songen everych in hys wyse
The mostë solempnë servise
By noote, that ever man, Y trowe,
Had herd. For somme of hem songe lowe,
Somme high, and al of oon acorde.
To tellë shortly at oo word,
Was never herd so swete a steven,
But hyt hadde be a thyng of heven,
So mery a soun, so swete entewnes,
That, certes, for the toune of Tewnes,
I nolde but I had herd hem synge,
For al my chambre gan to rynge,
Thorgh syngynge of her armonye ;
For instrument nor melodye
Was no-wher herd yet half so swete,
Nor of acorde ne half so mete.
For ther was noon of hem that feynede
To synge, for eche of hem hym peynede2
To fynde out mery crafty notys;
They ne sparede not her throtys.
And, sooth to seyn, my chambre was
Ful wel depeynted, and with glas
Were alle the wyndowes wel yglased
Ful clere, and nat an hoole ycrased,
That to beholde hyt was grete joye.
For holy al the story of Troye
Was in the glasynge ywrought thus;
Of Ector, and of kyng Priamus,
Of Achilles, and of kyng Lamedon,
And eke of Medea and of Jason,
Of Paris, Eleyne, and of Lavyne;
And alle the walles, with coloures fyne
Were peynted, bothë text and glose,
And al the Romaunce of the Rose.
My windowes were shet echon,
And throgh the glas the sonnë shon
Upon my bed with bryghtë bemys,
With many gladë, gildë stremys ;
And eke the welken was so faire,
Blewe, bryghtë, clerë was the ayre,
And ful atempre, for sothe, hyt was;
For nother to cold nor hoote yt nas,
Ne in al the welkene was a clowde.
[Troylus sees Criseyde in the Temple, and loves her at first sight.]
But though that Grekës hem of Troye in shetten 1,
And hire cité beseged al aboute,
Hire olde usages woldë thai noght letten,
As for to honoure hire goddës ful devoute,
But aldermost in honour, out of doute,
They had a relyk hight Palladioun,
That was hire trist aboven everichoun.
And so byfel, whan comen was the tyme
Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede
With newë grene, of lusty Veer the prime,
And swotë smellen floures, white and rede;
In sondry wisë schewed, as I rede,
The folk of Troye hire observaunces olde,
Palladyones festë for to holde.
And to the temple, in alle hire beste wise,
In general ther wentë many a wyght
To herken of Palladyoun servise,
And namely so mony a lusty knyght,
So many a lady fresshe, and mayden bryght,
Ful wele araied, bothë moste and leste,
Ye, bothë for the seson and the feeste.
Among thise other folk was Criseyda,
In wydewes habit blak; but nathëles,
Right as oure firstë lettre is now an A,
In beauté first so stood sche makëles';
Hire goodly lokyng gladded al the prees:
Nas nevere seyn thyng to ben preysed derre2,
Nor under cloudë blak so bright a sterre,
As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everychon,
That hire byhelden in hire blakë wede;
And yet sche stood ful low and stille allone
Byhynden other folk in litel brede3,
And neygh the dore, ay under schames drede,
Symple of atyre, and debonair of cheere,
Wyth ful asseured lokynge and manere.
This Troylus, as he was wont to gyde
His yongë knyhtës, ladde hem up and down,
In thilkë largë temple on every syde,
Byholdynge ay the ladies of the town;
Now here now ther, for no devocioun
But gan to preyse and lakken 2 whom him leste.
And in his walk ful fast he gan to wayten,
If knyght or sqwyer of his compaynye
Gan for to sigh, or lete his eyen bayten 3
On any woman that he koude aspye;
He wolde smyle, and holden it folye,
And seye him thus :-'God wot sche slepeth softe
For love of the, whan thow turnest ful ofte.
'I have herd telle, pardieux, of your lyvynge,
Ye lovers, and youre lewde observaunces,
And which a5 labour folk han in wynnynge
Of love, and in the kepynge which doutaunces;
And when your preye is lost, wo and penaunces;
O, verrey foolës! nice and blynde be ye;
Ther is not oon kan war by other be.'
And with that worde he gan caste up his browe,
Ascaunces, lo! is this nought wysly spoken?
At whiche the God of Love gan loken rowe?
Right for despit, and shoop for to ben wroken R.
He kydde9 anon his bowë nas not broken:
For, sodenly he hitte him attë fulle,
And yet as proude a pacok can he pulle.
O blynde world! O blynd intencioun !
How often falleth al the effecte contraire
Of surquidrye 10 and foul presumpcioun,
For kaught is proud, and kaught is debonaire !
This Troylus is clomben on the staire,
And litel weneth that he schal descenden;
But alday" fayleth thinge that fooles wenden.
As proudë Bayard1 gynneth for to skyppe
Out of the wey, so priketh him his corn,
Til he a lassch have of the longë whippe,
Than thynketh he, 'Thogh I praunce al byforn
First in the trayse, ful fat and newë shorn,
Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe
I mote endure, and with my feerës 2 drawe.'
So ferd it by this fiers and proudë knyght,
Though he a worthi kyngës sonnë were,
And wende no thinge had had swichë myght;
Ayeins his wille, that scholde his hertë stere3;
That with a look his hertë wex a feere,
That, he that now was moost in pride above,
Wex sodeynly most subgit unto love.
Forthy ensaumple taketh of this man,
Ye wisë, proude, and worthy folkës alle,
To scornen Love, whiche that so soonë kan
The fredom of youre hertës to him thralle;
For evere was, and evere schal befalle,
That Love is he that alle thing may bynde ;
For may no man fordon the lawe of kynde".
That this be soth hath proved and doth yit;
For this trowe I ye knowen alle and some,
Men reden not that folk han gretter wit
Than thei that hath ben most with love ynome;
And strengest folk ben therwith overcome,
The worthiest and the grettest of degree;
This was and is, and yit men schal it see.
And treweliche it sit wel to be so,
For alderwysest han therwith ben plesed,
And thai that han ben aldermost in wo,
With love han ben conforted most and esed;
And oft it hath the cruel herte apesed,
And worthi folk made worthier of name,
And causeth most to dreden vice and schamę.
1 'Bay,' a common name for a horse. 3 steer.
2 fellows. • taken prisoners.
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