Chapter 52

“My name? alas, my heart, why mak’st thou strange?* *why so cold Philogenet I call’d am far and near, or distant?* Of Cambridge clerk, that never think to change From you, that with your heav’nly streames* clear *beams, glances Ravish my heart; and ghost, and all in fere:* *all together Since at the first I writ my bill* for grace, *petition Me thinks I see some mercy in your face;”

And again he humbly pressed his suit. But the lady disdained the idea that, “for a word of sugar’d eloquence,” she should have compassion in so little space; “there come but few who speede here so soon.” If, as he says, the beams of her eyes pierce and fret him, then let him withdraw from her presence:

“Hurt not yourself, through folly, with a look; I would be sorry so to make you sick! A woman should beware eke whom she took: Ye be a clerk: go searche well my book, If any women be so light* to win: *easy Nay, bide a while, though ye were *all my kin.”* *my only kindred*

He might sue and serve, and wax pale, and green, and dead, without murmuring in any wise; but whereas he desired her hastily to lean to love, he was unwise, and must cease that language. For some had been at Court for twenty years, and might not obtain their mistresses’ favour; therefore she marvelled that he was so bold as to treat of love with her. Philogenet, on this, broke into pitiful lamentation; bewailing the hour in which he was born, and assuring the unyielding lady that the frosty grave and cold must be his bed, unless she relented.

With that I fell in swoon, and dead as stone, With colour slain,* and wan as ashes pale; *deathlike And by the hand she caught me up anon: “Arise,” quoth she; “what? have ye drunken dwale?* *sleeping potion <31> Why sleepe ye? It is no nightertale.”* *night-time “Now mercy! sweet,” quoth I, y-wis afraid; “What thing,” quoth she, “hath made you so dismay’d?”

She said that by his hue she knew well that he was a lover; and if he were secret, courteous, and kind, he might know how all this could be allayed. She would amend all that she had missaid, and set his heart at ease; but he must faithfully keep the statutes, “and break them not for sloth nor ignorance.” The lover requests, however, that the sixteenth may be released or modified, for it “doth him great grievance;” and she complies.

And softly then her colour gan appear, As rose so red, throughout her visage all; Wherefore methinks it is according* her *appropriate to That she of right be called Rosial. Thus have I won, with wordes great and small, Some goodly word of her that I love best, And trust she shall yet set mine heart in rest.

Rosial now told Philobone to conduct Philogenet all over the Court, and show him what lovers and what officers dwelt there; for he was yet a stranger.

And, stalking soft with easy pace, I saw About the king standen all environ,* *around <32> Attendance, Diligence, and their fellaw Furtherer, Esperance,* and many one; *Hope Dread-to-offend there stood, and not alone; For there was eke the cruel adversair, The lover’s foe, that called is Despair;

Which unto me spake angrily and fell,* *cruelly And said, my lady me deceive shall: “Trow’st thou,” quoth she, “that all that she did tell Is true? Nay, nay, but under honey gall. Thy birth and hers they be no thing egal:* *equal Cast off thine heart, <33> for all her wordes white, For in good faith she loves thee but a lite.* *little

“And eke remember, thine ability May not compare with her, this well thou wot.” Yea, then came Hope and said, “My friend, let be! Believe him not: Despair he gins to doat.” “Alas,” quoth I, “here is both cold and hot: The one me biddeth love, the other nay; Thus wot I not what me is best to say.

“But well wot I, my lady granted me Truly to be my wounde’s remedy; Her gentleness* may not infected be *noble nature With doubleness,* this trust I till I die.” *duplicity So cast I t’ avoid Despair’s company, And take Hope to counsel and to friend. “Yea, keep that well,” quoth Philobone, “in mind.”

And there beside, within a bay window, Stood one in green, full large of breadth and length, His beard as black as feathers of the crow; His name was Lust, of wondrous might and strength; And with Delight to argue there he think’th, For this was alway his opinion, That love was sin: and so he hath begun

To reason fast, and *ledge authority:* *allege authorities “Nay,” quoth Delight, “love is a virtue clear, And from the soul his progress holdeth he: Blind appetite of lust doth often steer,* *stir (the heart) And that is sin; for reason lacketh there: For thou dost think thy neighbour’s wife to win; Yet think it well that love may not be sin;

“For God, and saint, they love right verily, Void of all sin and vice: this know I weel,* *well Affection of flesh is sin truly; But very* love is virtue, as I feel; *true For very love may frail desire akele:* *cool For very love is love withoute sin.” “Now stint,”* quoth Lust, “thou speak’st not worth a pin.” *cease

And there I left them in their arguing, Roaming farther into the castle wide, And in a corner Liar stood talking Of leasings* fast, with Flattery there beside; *falsehoods He said that women *ware attire of pride, *wore And men were found of nature variant, And could be false and *showe beau semblant.* *put on plausible appearances to deceive* Then Flattery bespake and said, y-wis: “See, so she goes on pattens fair and feat;* *pretty, neat It doth right well: what pretty man is this That roameth here? now truly drink nor meat Need I not have, my heart for joy doth beat Him to behold, so is he goodly fresh: It seems for love his heart is tender and nesh.”* *soft <34>

This is the Court of lusty folk and glad, And well becomes their habit and array: O why be some so sorry and so sad, Complaining thus in black and white and gray? Friars they be, and monkes, in good fay: Alas, for ruth! great dole* it is to see, *sorrow To see them thus bewail and sorry be.

See how they cry and ring their handes white, For they so soon* went to religion!, *young And eke the nuns with veil and wimple plight,* *plaited Their thought is, they be in confusion: “Alas,” they say, “we feign perfection, <35> In clothes wide, and lack our liberty; But all the sin must on our friendes be. <36>

“For, Venus wot, we would as fain* as ye, *gladly That be attired here and *well beseen,* *gaily clothed* Desire man, and love in our degree,’ Firm and faithful, right as would the Queen: Our friendes wick’, in tender youth and green, Against our will made us religious; That is the cause we mourn and waile thus.”

Then said the monks and friars *in the tide,* *at the same time* “Well may we curse our abbeys and our place, Our statutes sharp to sing in copes wide, <37> Chastely to keep us out of love’s grace, And never to feel comfort nor solace;* *delight Yet suffer we the heat of love’s fire, And after some other haply we desire.

“O Fortune cursed, why now and wherefore Hast thou,” they said, “bereft us liberty, Since Nature gave us instrument in store, And appetite to love and lovers be? Why must we suffer such adversity, Dian’ to serve, and Venus to refuse? Full *often sithe* these matters do us muse. *many a time*

“We serve and honour, sore against our will, Of chastity the goddess and the queen; *Us liefer were* with Venus bide still, *we would rather* And have regard for love, and subject be’n Unto these women courtly, fresh, and sheen.* *bright, beautiful Fortune, we curse thy wheel of variance! Where we were well, thou reavest* our pleasance.” *takest away

Thus leave I them, with voice of plaint and care, In raging woe crying full piteously; And as I went, full naked and full bare Some I beheld, looking dispiteously, On Poverty that deadly cast their eye; And “Well-away!” they cried, and were not fain, For they might not their glad desire attain.

For lack of riches worldly and of good, They ban and curse, and weep, and say, “Alas! That povert’ hath us hent,* that whilom stood *seized At hearte’s ease, and free and in good case! But now we dare not show ourselves in place, Nor us embold* to dwell in company, *make bold, venture Where as our heart would love right faithfully.”

And yet againward shrieked ev’ry nun, The pang of love so strained them to cry: “Now woe the time,” quoth they, “that we be boun’!* *bound This hateful order nice* will do us die! *into which we foolishly We sigh and sob, and bleeden inwardly, entered Fretting ourselves with thought and hard complaint, That nigh for love we waxe wood* and faint.” *mad

And as I stood beholding here and there, I was ware of a sort* full languishing, *a class of people Savage and wild of looking and of cheer, Their mantles and their clothes aye tearing; And oft they were of Nature complaining, For they their members lacked, foot and hand, With visage wry, and blind, I understand.

They lacked shape and beauty to prefer Themselves in love: and said that God and Kind* *Nature Had forged* them to worshippe the sterre,** *fashioned **star Venus the bright, and leften all behind His other workes clean and out of mind: “For other have their full shape and beauty, And we,” quoth they, “be in deformity.”

And nigh to them there was a company, That have the Sisters warray’d and missaid, I mean the three of fatal destiny, <38> That be our workers: suddenly abraid,* *aroused Out gan they cry as they had been afraid; “We curse,” quoth they, “that ever hath Nature Y-formed us this woeful life t’endure.”

And there eke was Contrite, and gan repent, Confessing whole the wound that Cythere <39> Had with the dart of hot desire him sent, And how that he to love must subject be: Then held he all his scornes vanity, And said that lovers held a blissful life, Young men and old, and widow, maid, and wife.

“Bereave me, Goddess!” quoth he, “of thy might, My scornes all and scoffes, that I have No power for to mocken any wight That in thy service dwell: for I did rave; This know I well right now, so God me save, And I shall be the chief post* of thy faith, *prop, pillar And love uphold, the reverse whoso saith.”

Dissemble stood not far from him in truth, With party* mantle, party hood and hose; *parti-coloured And said he had upon his lady ruth,* *pity And thus he wound him in, and gan to glose, Of his intent full double, I suppose: In all the world he said he lov’d her weel; But ay me thought he lov’d her *ne’er a deal.* *never a jot*

Eke Shamefastness was there, as I took heed, That blushed red, and durst not be y-know She lover was, for thereof had she dread; She stood and hung her visage down alow; But such a sight it was to see, I trow, As of these roses ruddy on their stalk: There could no wight her spy to speak or talk

In love’s art, so gan she to abash, Nor durst not utter all her privity: Many a stripe and many a grievous lash She gave to them that woulde lovers be, And hinder’d sore the simple commonalty, That in no wise durst grace and mercy crave, For *were not she,* they need but ask and have; *but for her*

Where if they now approache for to speak, Then Shamefastness *returneth them* again: *turns them back* They think, “If we our secret counsel break, Our ladies will have scorn us certain, And peradventure thinke great disdain:” Thus Shamefastness may bringen in Despair; When she is dead the other will be heir.

“Come forth Avaunter! now I ring thy bell!” <40> I spied him soon; to God I make avow,* *confession He looked black as fiendes do in Hell: “The first,” quoth he, “that ever I did wow,* *woo *Within a word she came,* I wot not how, *she was won with So that in armes was my lady free, a single word* And so have been a thousand more than she.

“In England, Britain,* Spain, and Picardy, *Brittany Artois, and France, and up in high Holland, In Burgoyne,* Naples, and in Italy, *Burgundy Navarre, and Greece, and up in heathen land, Was never woman yet that would withstand To be at my commandment when I wo’ld: I lacked neither silver coin nor gold.

“And there I met with this estate and that; And her I broach’d, and her, and her, I trow: Lo! there goes one of mine; and, wot ye what? Yon fresh attired have I laid full low; And such one yonder eke right well I know; I kept the statute <41> when we lay y-fere:* *together And yet* yon same hath made me right good cheer.” *also

Thus hath Avaunter blowen ev’rywhere All that he knows, and more a thousand fold; His ancestry of kin was to Lier,* *Liar For first he maketh promise for to hold His lady’s counsel, and it not unfold; — Wherefore, the secret when he doth unshit,* *disclose Then lieth he, that all the world may wit.* *know

For falsing so his promise and behest,* *trust I wonder sore he hath such fantasy; He lacketh wit, I trow, or is a beast, That can no bet* himself with reason guy** *better **guide By mine advice, Love shall be contrary To his avail,* and him eke dishonour, *advantage So that in Court he shall no more sojour.* *sojourn, remain

“Take heed,” quoth she, this little Philobone, “Where Envy rocketh in the corner yond,* *yonder And sitteth dark; and ye shall see anon His lean body, fading both face and hand; Himself he fretteth,* as I understand devoureth (Witness of Ovid Metamorphoseos); <42> The lover’s foe he is, I will not glose.* *gloss over

“For where a lover thinketh *him promote,* *to promote himself* Envy will grudge, repining at his weal; It swelleth sore about his hearte’s root, That in no wise he cannot live in heal;* *health And if the faithful to his lady steal, Envy will noise and ring it round about, And say much worse than done is, out of doubt.”

And Privy Thought, rejoicing of himself, — Stood not far thence in habit marvellous; “Yon is,” thought I, “some spirit or some elf, His subtile image is so curious: How is,” quoth I, “that he is shaded thus With yonder cloth, I n’ot* of what color?” *know not And near I went and gan *to lear and pore,* *to ascertain and gaze curiously* And frained* him a question full hard. *asked “What is,” quoth I, “the thing thou lovest best? Or what is boot* unto thy paines hard? *remedy Me thinks thou livest here in great unrest, Thou wand’rest aye from south to east and west, And east to north; as far as I can see, There is no place in Court may holde thee.

“Whom followest thou? where is thy heart y-set? But *my demand assoil,* I thee require.” *answer my question* “Me thought,” quoth he, “no creature may let* *hinder Me to be here, and where as I desire; For where as absence hath out the fire, My merry thought it kindleth yet again, That bodily, me thinks, with *my sov’reign* *my lady*

“I stand, and speak, and laugh, and kiss, and halse;* *embrace So that my thought comforteth me full oft: I think, God wot, though all the world be false, I will be true; I think also how soft My lady is in speech, and this on loft Bringeth my heart with joy and great gladness; This privy thought allays my heaviness.

“And what I think, or where, to be, no man In all this Earth can tell, y-wis, but I: And eke there is no swallow swift, nor swan So wight* of wing, nor half so yern** can fly; *nimble **eagerly For I can be, and that right suddenly, In Heav’n, in Hell, in Paradise, and here, And with my lady, when I will desire.

“I am of counsel far and wide, I wot, With lord and lady, and their privity I wot it all; but, be it cold or hot, They shall not speak without licence of me. I mean, in such as seasonable* be, *prudent Tho* first the thing is thought within the heart, *when Ere any word out from the mouth astart.”* *escape

And with the word Thought bade farewell and yede:* *went away Eke forth went I to see the Courte’s guise, And at the door came in, so God me speed, Two courtiers of age and of assise* *size Like high, and broad, and, as I me advise, The Golden Love and Leaden Love <43> they hight:* *were called The one was sad, the other glad and light.

At this point there is a hiatus in the poem, which abruptly ceases to narrate the tour of Philogenet and Philobone round the Court, and introduces us again to Rosial, who is speaking thus to her lover, apparently in continuation of a confession of love:

“Yes! draw your heart, with all your force and might, To lustiness, and be as ye have said.”

She admits that she would have given him no drop of favour, but that she saw him “wax so dead of countenance;” then Pity “out of her shrine arose from death to life,” whisperingly entreating that she would do him some pleasance. Philogenet protests his gratitude to Pity, his faithfulness to Rosial; and the lady, thanking him heartily, bids him abide with her till the season of May, when the King of Love and all his company will hold his feast fully royally and well. “And there I bode till that the season fell.”

On May Day, when the lark began to rise, To matins went the lusty nightingale, Within a temple shapen hawthorn-wise; He might not sleep in all the nightertale,* *night-time But “Domine” <44> gan he cry and gale,* *call out “My lippes open, Lord of Love, I cry, And let my mouth thy praising now bewry.”* *show forth

The eagle sang “Venite,” <45> bodies all, And let us joy to love that is our health.” And to the desk anon they gan to fall, And who came late he pressed in by stealth Then said the falcon, “Our own heartes’ wealth, ‘Domine Dominus noster,’ <46> I wot, Ye be the God that do* us burn thus hot.” *make

“Coeli enarrant,” <47> said the popinjay,* *parrot “Your might is told in Heav’n and firmament.” And then came in the goldfinch fresh and gay, And said this psalm with heartly glad intent, “Domini est terra;” <48> this Latin intent,* *means The God of Love hath earth in governance: And then the wren began to skip and dance.

“Jube Domine; <49> O Lord of Love, I pray Command me well this lesson for to read; This legend is of all that woulde dey* *die Martyrs for love; God yet their soules speed! And to thee, Venus, sing we, *out of dread,* *without doubt* By influence of all thy virtue great, Beseeching thee to keep us in our heat.”

The second lesson robin redbreast sang, “Hail to the God and Goddess of our lay!”* *law, religion And to the lectern amorously he sprang: “Hail now,” quoth be, “O fresh season of May, *Our moneth glad that singen on the spray!* *glad month for us that Hail to the flowers, red, and white, and blue, sing upon the bough* Which by their virtue maken our lust new!”

The third lesson the turtle-dove took up, And thereat laugh’d the mavis* in a scorn: *blackbird He said, “O God, as might I dine or sup, This foolish dove will give us all a horn! There be right here a thousand better born, To read this lesson, which as well as he, And eke as hot, can love in all degree.”

The turtle-dove said, “Welcome, welcome May, Gladsome and light to lovers that be true! I thank thee, Lord of Love, that doth purvey For me to read this lesson all *of due;* *in due form* For, in good sooth, *of corage* I pursue *with all my heart* To serve my make* till death us must depart:” *mate And then “Tu autem” <50> sang he all apart.

“Te Deum amoris” <51> sang the throstel* cock: *thrush Tubal <52> himself, the first musician, With key of harmony could not unlock So sweet a tune as that the throstel can: “The Lord of Love we praise,” quoth he than,* *then And so do all the fowles great and lite;* *little “Honour we May, in false lovers’ despite.”

“Dominus regnavit,” <53> said the peacock there, “The Lord of Love, that mighty prince, y-wis, He is received here and ev’rywhere: Now Jubilate <54> sing:” “What meaneth this?” Said then the linnet; “welcome, Lord of bliss!” Out start the owl with “Benedicite,” <55> “What meaneth all this merry fare?”* quoth he. *doing, fuss

“Laudate,” <56> sang the lark with voice full shrill; And eke the kite “O admirabile;” <57> This quire* will through mine eares pierce and thrill; *choir But what? welcome this May season,” quoth he; “And honour to the Lord of Love must be, That hath this feast so solemn and so high:” “Amen,” said all; and so said eke the pie.* *magpie

And forth the cuckoo gan proceed anon, With “Benedictus” <58> thanking God in haste, That in this May would visit them each one, And gladden them all while the feast shall last: And therewithal a-laughter* out he brast;”** *in laughter **burst “I thanke God that I should end the song, And all the service which hath been so long.”

Thus sang they all the service of the feast, And that was done right early, to my doom;* *judgment And forth went all the Court, both *most and least,* *great and small To fetch the flowers fresh, and branch and bloom; And namely* hawthorn brought both page and groom, *especially With freshe garlands party* blue and white, <59> *parti-coloured And then rejoiced in their great delight.

Eke each at other threw the flowers bright, The primerose, the violet, and the gold; So then, as I beheld the royal sight, My lady gan me suddenly behold, And with a true love, plighted many a fold, She smote me through the very heart *as blive;* *straightway* And Venus yet I thank I am alive.

Explicit* *The End

Notes to The Court of Love

1. So the Man of Law, in the prologue to his Tale, is made to say that Chaucer “can but lewedly (ignorantly or imperfectly) on metres and on rhyming craftily.” But the humility of those apologies is not justified by the care and finish of his earlier poems.

2. Born: burnish, polish: the poet means, that his verses do not display the eloquence or brilliancy of Cicero in setting forth his subject-matter.

3. Galfrid: Geoffrey de Vinsauf to whose treatise on poetical composition a less flattering allusion is made in The Nun’s Priest’s Tale. See note 33 to that Tale.

4. Stirp: race, stock; Latin, “stirps.”

5. Calliope is the epic muse — “sister” to the other eight.