Part 47 (2/2)

When mast'ry comes, the G.o.d of love anon Beateth <3> his wings, and, farewell, he is gone.

Love is a thing as any spirit free.

Women *of kind* desire liberty, *by nature*

And not to be constrained as a thrall,* *slave And so do men, if soothly I say shall.

Look who that is most patient in love, He *is at his advantage all above.* *enjoys the highest Patience is a high virtue certain, advantages of all*

For it vanquisheth, as these clerkes sayn, Thinges that rigour never should attain.

For every word men may not chide or plain.

Learne to suffer, or, so may I go,* *prosper Ye shall it learn whether ye will or no.

For in this world certain no wight there is, That he not doth or saith sometimes amiss.

Ire, or sickness, or constellation,* *the influence of Wine, woe, or changing of complexion, the planets*

Causeth full oft to do amiss or speaken: On every wrong a man may not be wreaken.* *revenged After* the time must be temperance *according to To every wight that *can of* governance. *is capable of*

And therefore hath this worthy wise knight (To live in ease) sufferance her behight;* *promised And she to him full wisly* gan to swear *surely That never should there be default in her.

Here may men see a humble wife accord; Thus hath she ta'en her servant and her lord, Servant in love, and lord in marriage.

Then was he both in lords.h.i.+p and servage?

Servage? nay, but in lords.h.i.+p all above, Since he had both his lady and his love: His lady certes, and his wife also, The which that law of love accordeth to.

And when he was in this prosperrity, Home with his wife he went to his country, Not far from Penmark,<4> where his dwelling was, And there he liv'd in bliss and in solace.* *delight Who coulde tell, but* he had wedded be, *unless The joy, the ease, and the prosperity, That is betwixt a husband and his wife?

A year and more lasted this blissful life, Till that this knight, of whom I spake thus, That of Cairrud <5> was call'd Arviragus, Shope* him to go and dwell a year or twain *prepared, arranged In Engleland, that call'd was eke Britain, To seek in armes wors.h.i.+p and honour (For all his l.u.s.t* he set in such labour); *pleasure And dwelled there two years; the book saith thus.

Now will I stint* of this Arviragus, *cease speaking And speak I will of Dorigen his wife, That lov'd her husband as her hearte's life.

For his absence weepeth she and siketh,* *sigheth As do these n.o.ble wives when them liketh; She mourneth, waketh, waileth, fasteth, plaineth; Desire of his presence her so distraineth, That all this wide world she set at nought.

Her friendes, which that knew her heavy thought, Comforte her in all that ever they may; They preache her, they tell her night and day, That causeless she slays herself, alas!

And every comfort possible in this case They do to her, with all their business,* *a.s.siduity And all to make her leave her heaviness.

By process, as ye knowen every one, Men may so longe graven in a stone, Till some figure therein imprinted be: So long have they comforted her, till she Received hath, by hope and by reason, Th' imprinting of their consolation, Through which her greate sorrow gan a.s.suage; She may not always duren in such rage.

And eke Arviragus, in all this care, Hath sent his letters home of his welfare, And that he will come hastily again, Or elles had this sorrow her hearty-slain.

Her friendes saw her sorrow gin to slake,* *slacken, diminish And prayed her on knees for G.o.dde's sake To come and roamen in their company, Away to drive her darke fantasy; And finally she granted that request, For well she saw that it was for the best.

Now stood her castle faste by the sea, And often with her friendes walked she, Her to disport upon the bank on high, There as many a s.h.i.+p and barge sigh,* *saw Sailing their courses, where them list to go.

But then was that a parcel* of her woe, *part For to herself full oft, ”Alas!” said she, Is there no s.h.i.+p, of so many as I see, Will bringe home my lord? then were my heart All warish'd* of this bitter paine's smart.” *cured <6> Another time would she sit and think, And cast her eyen downward from the brink; But when she saw the grisly rockes blake,* *black For very fear so would her hearte quake, That on her feet she might her not sustene* *sustain Then would she sit adown upon the green, And piteously *into the sea behold,* *look out on the sea*

And say right thus, with *careful sikes* cold: *painful sighs*

”Eternal G.o.d! that through thy purveyance Leadest this world by certain governance, *In idle,* as men say, ye nothing make; *idly, in vain*

But, Lord, these grisly fiendly rockes blake, That seem rather a foul confusion Of work, than any fair creation Of such a perfect wise G.o.d and stable, Why have ye wrought this work unreasonable?

For by this work, north, south, or west, or east, There is not foster'd man, nor bird, nor beast: It doth no good, to my wit, but *annoyeth.* *works mischief* <7> See ye not, Lord, how mankind it destroyeth?

A hundred thousand bodies of mankind Have rockes slain, *all be they not in mind;* *though they are Which mankind is so fair part of thy work, forgotten*

Thou madest it like to thine owen mark.* *image Then seemed it ye had a great cherte* *love, affection Toward mankind; but how then may it be That ye such meanes make it to destroy?

Which meanes do no good, but ever annoy.

I wot well, clerkes will say as them lest,* *please By arguments, that all is for the best, Although I can the causes not y-know; But thilke* G.o.d that made the wind to blow, *that As keep my lord, this is my conclusion: To clerks leave I all disputation: But would to G.o.d that all these rockes blake Were sunken into h.e.l.le for his sake These rockes slay mine hearte for the fear.”

Thus would she say, with many a piteous tear.

Her friendes saw that it was no disport To roame by the sea, but discomfort, And shope* them for to playe somewhere else. *arranged They leade her by rivers and by wells, And eke in other places delectables; They dancen, and they play at chess and tables.* *backgammon So on a day, right in the morning-tide, Unto a garden that was there beside, In which that they had made their ordinance* *provision, arrangement Of victual, and of other purveyance, They go and play them all the longe day: And this was on the sixth morrow of May, Which May had painted with his softe showers This garden full of leaves and of flowers: And craft of manne's hand so curiously Arrayed had this garden truely, That never was there garden of such price,* *value, praise *But if* it were the very Paradise. *unless*

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