[PROLOGUE.]
[Fol. 1.]
[THe ſoft morow ande The luſtee Aperill,]
The wynter set, the stormys in exill,
In April, when the fresh luminary upriseth,
Quhen that the brycht and freſch illumynare
[4] Upriſith arly in his fyre chare
His hot courß in to the orient,
and sendeth from his sphere his golden streams,
And frome his ſpere his goldine ſtremis sent
Wpone the grond, in maner off meſag,
[8] One euery thing to valkyne thar curage,
That natur haith set wnder hire mycht,
Boith gyrß, and flour, and euery luſty vicht:
And namly thame that felith the aſſay
[12] Of lufe, to ſchew the kalendis of may,
Throw birdis ſonge with opine wox one hy,
That ſeſſit not one lufaris for to cry,
Leſt thai forȝhet, throw ſlewth of Ignorans,
[16] The old wſage of lowis obſeruans.
and when I espy his bright face,
And from̅e I can the bricht face aſſpy,
It deuit me no langare fore to ly,
Nore that loue schuld ſleuth In to me finde,
THE POET BEWAILS HIS LOT.
I walk forth, bewailing my sad life.
[20] Bot walkine furth, bewalinge in my mynde
the dredful lyve endurit al to longe,
Sufferans in loue of ſorouful harmys ſtronge,
The ſcharpe dais and the hewy ȝerys,
[24] Quhill phebus thris haith paſſith al his ſperis,
Vithoutine hope ore traiſtinge of comfort;
So be such meine fatit was my sort.
Thus in my ſaull Rolinge al my wo,
The sword of love carves my heart.
[28] My carful hart carwing cañ In two
The derdful ſuerd of lowis hot diſſire;
So be the morow set I was a-fyre
In felinge of the acceß hot and colde,
[32] That haith my hart in ſich a fevir holde,
Only to me thare was noñe vthir eß
Bot thinkine qhow I ſchulde my lady pleß.
The ſcharp aſſay and ek the Inwart peine
[36] Of dowblit wo me neulyngis cañ conſtrein,
Quhen that I have remembrit one my thocht
My lady knoweth not how I am wobegone.
How sche, quhois bewte al my harm̅ haith wrocht,
[Fol. 1 b.]
Ne knouith not how I ame wo begoñe,
[40] Nor how that I ame of hire ſeruandis oñe;
And in my ſelf I cañ nocht fynde the meyne
In to quhat wyß I ſal my wo compleine.
HE SEES A VISION OF A GREEN BIRD.
I walked thus in the field, and came to a well-beseen garden.
Thus in the feild I walkith to and froo,
[44] As thochtful wicht that felt of nocht bot woo,
Syne to o gardinge, that weß weil beſeñ,
Of quiche the feild was al depaynt with greñ.
The tendyre and the luſty flouris new
[48] Up thrōue the greñ vpone thar ſtalkis grew
Aȝhane the ſone, and thare levis ſpred,
Quharwith that al the gardinge was I-clede;
That pryapus, in to his tyme before,
[52] In o luſtear walkith nevir more;
It was closely environed with leaves.
And al about enweronyt and Icloſit
One ſich o wyß, that none within ſuppoſit
Fore to be ſeñ with ony vicht thare owt;
[1] MS. “cloſit.”
[56] So dide the levis cloſ it[1] all about.
[2] May we read “alcest”?
Thar was the flour, thar was the queñ alpheſt,[2]
Rycht wering being of the nychtis reſt,
Wncloſing gañe the crownel for the day;
The sun illumined the sprays;
[60] The brycht ſone illumynit haith the ſpray,
The nychtis ſobir ande the moſt ſchowris,
As criſtoll terys withhong vpone the flouris,
Haith vpwarpith In the luſty aire,
[64] The morow makith soft, ameyne, and faire;
the birds sang till the woods resounded;
And the byrdis thar mychty voce out-throng,
Quhill al the wood reſonite of thar ſonge,
That gret confort till ony vicht It wer
[68] That pleſſith thame of luſtenes to here.
Bot gladneß til the thochtful, euer mo
The more he ſeith, the more he haith of wo.
the garden was adorned with flowers.
Thar was the garding with the flouris ourfret,
[72] Quich is in poſy fore my lady set,
That hire Repreſent to me oft befor,
[3] MS. “beſor.”
And thane alſo; thus al day gan be ſor[3]
Of thocht my goſt with torment occupy,
[Fol. 2.]
I fell there into an ecstasy or sleep,
[76] That I becam̅e In to one exaſy,
Ore ſlep, or how I wot; bot ſo befell
My wo haith done my livis goſt expell,
And in ſich wiß weil long I can endwr,
[80] So me betid o wondir aventur.
As I thus lay, Rycht to my ſpreit vas ſeñ
and saw in my dream a green bird, who said:
A birde, yat was as ony lawrare greñ,
A-licht, and ſayth in to hir birdis chere;
THE BIRD’S MESSAGE.
[84] “O woful wrech, that levis in to were!
To ſchew the thus the god of loue me ſent,
That of thi ſeruice no thing is content,
“The God of Love is discontent with thee.
For in his court yhoue lewith in diſſpar,
[88] And vilfully suſtenis al thi care,
And ſchapith no thinge of thine awn remede,
Bot clepith ay and cryith apone dede.
Yhow callith the birdis be morow fro thar bouris,
[92] Yhoue devith boith the erbis and the flouris,
And clepit hyme vnfaithful king of lowe,
Yow dewith hyme in to his rigne abufe,
Yhow tempith hyme, yhoue doith thi ſelf no gud,
You are destitute of wit.
[96] Yhoue are o moñ of wit al deſtitude.
Wot yhoue nocht that al liwis creatwre
Haith of thi wo in to his hand the cwre?
Though you call on trees, your lady hears not.
And ſet yhoue clep one erbis and one treis,
[100] Sche heris not thi wo, nore ȝhit ſche ſeis;
For none may know the dirkneß of thi thocht,
Ne blamyth her thi wo ſche knowith nocht.
And It is weil accordinge It be so
[104] He ſuffir harme, that to redreß his wo
Previdith not; for long ore he be ſonde,
Holl of his leich, that ſchewith not his vound.
Ovid says it is better to shew, than to conceal love.
And of owid ye autor ſchall yhow knaw
[108] Of lufe that ſeith, for to conſel or ſchow,
The laſt he clepith althir-beſt of two;
And that is ſuth, and ſal be euer mo.
And loue alſo haith chargit me to ſay,
[Fol. 2 b.]
[112] Set yhoue preſume, ore beleif, ye aſſay
Of his ſeruice, as It wil ryne ore go,
Preſwme It not, fore It wil not be so;
Al magre thine a ſeruand ſchal yow bee.
As touching thine adversity, seek the remedy.”
[116] And as tueching thine aduerſytee,
Complen and sek of the ramed, the cwre,
Ore, gif yhow likith, furth thi wo endure.”
And, as me thocht, I anſuerde aȝaiñe
Then answered I:
[120] Thus to the byrde, in wordis ſchort and plane:
“It ganyth not, as I have harde Recorde,
The ſeruand for to diſput with ye lord;
“Love knows the reason of my wo.”
Bot well he knowith of al my vo the quhy,
[124] And in quhat wyß he hath me ſet, quhar I
Nore may I not, nore can I not attane,
Nore to hir hienes dare I not complane.”
SHE BIDS HIM WRITE A POEM.
“Fool,” said the bird, “despair not;
“Ful!” quod the bird, “lat be thi nyß diſpare,
[128] For in this erith no lady is ſo fare,
So hie eſtat, nore of ſo gret empriß,
That in hire ſelf haith viſdome ore gentrice,
Yf that o wicht, that worthy is to be
[132] Of lovis court, ſchew til hir that he
Seruith hire in lovis hartly wyß,
That ſchall thar for hyme hating or diſpiß.
the God of Love charges thee to speak out your love, or else to write thy plaint;
The god of love thus chargit the, at ſchort,
[136] That to thi lady yhoue thi wo Report;
Yf yhoue may not, thi plant ſchall yhov vrit.
Se, as yhoue cane, be maner oft endit
In metir, quhich that no man haith ſuſſpek,
[140] Set oft tyme thai contenyng gret effecc;
Thus one ſume wyß yhow ſchal thi wo dwclar.
And, for thir ſedulis and thir billis are
So generall, and ek ſo ſchort at lyte,
[144] And ſwme of thaim is loſt the appetit,
write, then, some treatise for her to read;
Sum trety ſchall yhoue for yi lady ſak,
That wnkouth is, als tak one hand and mak,
Of love, ore armys, or of ſum othir thing,
[148] That may hir one to thi Remembryng brynge;
[Fol. 3.]
Qwich ſoundith Not one to no hewynes,
Bot one to gladneß and to luſteneß,
one that may please her and get her thanks.
That yhoue belevis may thi lady pleß,
[152] To have hir thonk and be one to hir eß;
That ſche may wit in ſeruice yhow art one.
Farewell, and be merry.”
Faire weil,” quod ſche, “thus ſchal yhow the diſpone,
And mak thi ſelf als mery as yhoue may,
[156] It helpith not thus fore to wex al way.”
With that, the bird ſche haith hir leif tak,
Thereon I awoke, and wondered what it might mean.
For fere of quich I can onone to wak;
Sche was ago, and to my ſelf thocht I
[160] Quhat may yis meyne? quhat may this ſignify?
Is It of troucht, or of Illuſioune?
HE RESOLVES TO DO SO.
Bot finaly, as in concluſioune,
Be as be may, I ſchal me not discharge,
[164] Sen It apperith be of lovis charg;
And ek myne hart noñe othir biſſynes
Haith bot my ladice ſeruice, as I geß;
I determined to take in hand this occupation.
Among al vtheris I ſchal one honde tak
[168] This litil occupatioune for hire ſak.
Bot hyme I pray, the mychty gode of loue,
That ſitith hie in to his ſpir abuf,
(At command of o wyß quhois viſioune
[172] My goſt haith takin this opvnioune,)
That my lawboure may to my lady pleß
And do wnto hir ladeſchip ſum eß,
So that my trauell be nocht tynt, and I
[176] Quhat vtheris ſay ſetith nothing by.
I know it will but hurt my name, when men hear my feeble negligence.
For wel I know that, be this worldis fam̅e.
It ſchal not be bot hurting to my nam̅e,
Quhen that thai here my febil negligens,
[180] That empit is, and bare of eloquens,
Of diſcreſſioune, and ek of Retoryk;
The metire and the cuning both elyk
So fere diſcording frome perfeccioune;
I submit my poem to the correction of the wise;
[184] Quhilk I ſubmyt to the correccioune
Of yaim the quhich that is diſcret and wyß,
And enterit is of loue in the ſeruice;
[Fol. 3 b.]
Quhich knouyth that no lovare dare withſtonde,
[188] Quhat loue hyme chargit he mot tak one honde,
Deith, or defam̅, or ony maner wo;
And at this tyme with me It ſtant rycht ſo,
for I dare not oppose Love’s command.
As I that dar makine no demande
[192] To quhat I wot It lykith loue commande.
Tueching his chargis, as with al deſtitut,
Within my mynd ſchortly I conclud
For to fulfyll, for ned I mot do ſo.
HE THINKS OF THE STORY OF LANCELOT.
[196] Thane in my thocht rolling to and fro
Quhare that I myhct ſum wnkouth mater fynde,
At last I thought of the story of “Lancelot of the Lake,”
Quhill at ye laſt it fell in to my mynd
Of o ſtory, that I befor had ſene,
[200] That boith of loue and armys can conteñ,
Was of o knycht clepit lancelot of ye laik,
The ſone of bane was, king of albanak;
Of quhois fame and worſchipful dedis
[204] Clerkis in to diuerß bukis redis,
of whom I here think to write something.
Of quhome I thynk her ſum thing for to writ
At louis charge, and as I cane, endit;
Set men tharin ſal by experiens
[208] Know my conſait, and al my negligens.
But because my ignorance cannot comprehend the French romance,
Bot for that ſtory is ſo paſing larg,
One to my wit It war ſo gret o charg
For to tranſlait the romans of that knycht;
[212] It paſſith fare my cunyng and my mycht,
Myne Ignorans may It not comprehende;
HE BRIEFLY ENUMERATES
I shall not tell how he was born;
Quharfor thare one I wil me not depend
How he was borne, nor how his fader deid
[216] And ek his moder, nore how he was denyed
Efter thare deth, preſumyng he was ded,
nor how he was nourished by the Lady of the Lake;
Of al ye lond, nore how he fra that ſtede
In sacret wyß wnwyſt away was tak,
[220] And nwriſt with ye lady of ye lak.
nor how he was brought to Arthur’s court,
Nor, in his ȝouth, think I not to tell
The auentouris, quhich to hyme befell;
Nor how the lady of the laik hyme had
[224] One to the court, quhare that he knycht was mad;
[Fol. 4.]
None wiſt his nome, nore how that he was tak
By loue, and was Iwondit to the ſtak,
and pierced to the heart by the beauty of Wanore (Guinevere),
And throuch and throuch perſit to ye hart,
[228] That al his tyme he couth It not aſtart;
For thare of loue he enterit in ſeruice,
Of wanore throuch the beute and franchis,
for whose service he wrought many wonders;
Throuch quhois ſeruice in armys he has vrocht
[232] Mony wonderis, and perellis he has socht.
Nor how he thor, in to his ȝoung curage,
nor how he made a vow to revenge a wounded knight,
Hath maid awoue, and in to louis rage,
In the rewenging of o wondit knycht
[236] That cumyne was in to the court that nycht;
[4] MS. “abrokin.”
who had a broken sword in his head, and a truncheon of a broken spear in his body;
In to his hed a brokin[4] ſuerd had he,
And in his body alſo mycht men see
The tronſione of o brokine ſper that was,
[240] Quhich no man out dedenyt to aras;
Nor how he haith the wapnis out tak,
And his awow apone this wis can mak,
That he ſchuld hyme Reweng at his poware
[244] One euery knycht that louith the hurtare
Better thane hyme, the quhich that vas Iwond.
Throw quich awoue in armys hath ben founde
[5] The MS. wrongly transposes ll. 247 and 248.
a vow which caused the death of many a wight warrior;
The deth of mony wereoure ful wicht;[5]
[248] For, fro tho wow was knowing of the knycht,
Thare was ful mony o paſage in the londe
By men of armys kepit to withſtond
This knycht, of quhome thai ben al set afyre
[252] Thaim to reweng in armys of deſir.
or how he and Sir Kay were sent to defend the lady of Nohalt;
Nor how that thane incontynent was ſend
He and ſir kay togidder to defend
The lady of nohalt, nor how that hee
[256] Gouernit hyme thare, nore in quhat degre.
Nor how the gret paſing vaſſolag
He eſcheuit, thrōue the outragouß curag,
or how he conquered the Sorrowful Castle;
In conquiryng of the sorowful caſtell.
[260] Nor how he paſſith doune in the cauis fell,
And furth ye keys of Inchantment brocht,
That al diſtroyt quhich that thare vas vrocht.
[Fol. 4 b.]
or how he rescued Sir Gawane and his nine fellows;
Nore howe that he reſkewit ſir gawane,
[264] With his ix falouß in to preſone tane;
Nore mony vthere diuerß aduenture,
Quhich to report I tak not in my cwre,
LANCELOT’S EARLY DEEDS.
nor of the many “assemblies” Gawane held to find out his name;
Nor mony aſſemblay that gawane gart be maid
[268] To wit his name; nor how that he hyme hade
Wnwiſt, and hath the worſchip and empriß;
[6] We should perhaps omit “mony.”
Nor of the knychtis in to mony[6] diuerß wyß
Throuch his awoue that hath thare dethis found;
nor of his suffering caused by love’s wound;
[272] Nor of the ſufferans that by louis wounde
He in his trawel ſufferith auer more;
Nor in the quenis presens how tharfor
nor how he was nearly drowned at Camelot;
By camelot, in to that gret Revare,
[276] He was ner dround. I wil It not declare
How that he was in louis hewy thocht
nor how he was brought to court by Dagenet;
By dagenet in to the court I-brocht;
Nor how the knycht that tyme he cane perſew,
nor of the giants he slew at Camelot;
[280] Nor of the gyantis by camelot he ſlew;
Nor wil I not her tell the maner how
He ſlew o knycht, by natur of his wow,
nor how he slew a knight of Melyholt;
Off melyholt; nore how in to that toune
[284] Thar came one hyme o gret confuſione
Of pupil and [of] knychtis, al enarmyt,
and there defended himself against a crowd;
Nor how he thar haith kepit hyme wnharmyt;
Nor of his worſchip, nor of his gret prowes,
[288] Nor his defens of armys in the pres.
whereupon the lady of Melyhalt prayed him to yield his sword to her; and kept him in her power.
Nor how the lady of melyhalt yat ſche
Came to the feild, and prayth hyme that he
[7] MS. “his.”
As to o lady to hir[7] his ſuerd hath ȝold,
[292] Nor how he was in to hir keping hold;
And mony vthir nobil deid alſo
I wil report quharfor I lat ourgo.
Whoever likes, might make of these things a long story.
For quho thaim lykith for to ſpecyfy,
[296] Of one of thaim mycht mak o gret ſtory;
Nor thing I not of his hye renōwn
My febil wit to makin menſioune;
But I think to tell of the wars between Arthur and Galiot;
Bot of the weris that was ſcharp and ſtrong,
[300] Richt perellouß, and hath enduryt long,
[Fol. 5.]
Of Arthur In defending of his lond
Frome galiot, ſone of the fair gyonde,
That brocht of knychtis o paſing confluens;
wherein Lancelot won renown by his defence of Arthur;
[304] And how lancelot of arthuris hol defens
And of the veris berith the renowñ;
And how he be the wais of fortoune
and at last made peace between the two princes.
Tuex the two princis makith the accorde,
[308] Of al there mortall weris to concorde;
I shall also tell how Venus rewarded him.
And how that venus, ſiting hie abuf,
Reuardith hyme of trauell in to loue,
And makith hyme his ladice grace to have,
[312] And thankfully his ſeruice cane reſave;
This is the mater quhich I think to tell.
Bot ſtil he mot rycht with the lady duell,
Quhill tyme cum eft that we ſchal of hym ſpek.
My summary must end for the present.
[316] This proceß [now] mot cloſine beñ and ſtek;
And furth I wil one to my mater go.
THE DEDICATION.
But I pray for the support of a very great poet,
Bot first I pray, and I beſek also,
One to the moſt conpilour to ſupport,
[320] Flour of poyetis, quhois nome I wil report
To me nor to noñ vthir It accordit,
whose name I may not mention;
In to our rymyng his nam̅ to be recordit;
For ſum ſuld deme It of preſumpſioune,
for our riming is but derision, when his excellence is remembered.
[324] And ek our rymyng is al bot deryſioune,
Quhen that remembrit is his excellens,
So hie abuf that ſtant in reuerans.
Ye freſch enditing of his laiting toung
The world knows his eloquence in inditing Latin;
[328] Out throuch yis world ſo wid is yroung,
Of eloquens, and ek of retoryk;
Nor is, nor was, nore neuer beith hyme lyk,
and none can ever gladden the world like him:
This world gladith of his ſuet poetry.
[332] His ſaul I blyß conſeruyt be for-thy;
to him be the thanks for my success.
And yf that ony lusty terme I wryt
He haith the thonk yerof, and this endit.
EXPLICIT PROLOGUS, ET INCIPIT PRIMUS LIBER.
ARTHUR AT CARLISLE.