Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave who [pg 66] besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline unto love.
Sealed Letter
To her who surpasses all, and whom my heart fears and worships
Lady, the flower of all of high degree, very renowned and revered princess, the desire of my heart, and the joy of my eyes, who art exalted above the consideration of the lowly, my much loved and coveted lady, deign, for pity's sake, to hearken unto and to accept the sad plaint of your servant, who, since he is under restraint, is like to one who is nigh unto death, and who takes perilous remedies in order that he may either [pg 67] end his days or live. To you, very sweet Lady, who, by your refusal, can slay me, or, by the tender solace of your consent, can give me life, I come to entreat either swift death, or a speedy cure. Most beautiful one, I know well that you have such discernment that you have been able to perceive how that, because of you, love has longwhiles held me, and still holds me, in its toils, and how that the fear and dread with the which great love has filled my heart, has robbed me of the courage to tell you of it, sweet lady. And I know that you are so gracious, that if you had perceived and known all the pain and the torment which I have since suffered, and still endure, through desire for your tender love, then, albeit I have not yet performed enough deeds of valour, and have not enough of worth, to have deserved the love of even one of less noble birth than yourself, the gentle pity of your kindly heart would not have suffered me to endure such disquiet. Ah, Lady, if you have regard to your worth and your great renown for that, by reason of my youth, I have not yet been counted valiant, it will be my death! But, my honoured Lady, know that you can so strengthen me as to give me heart and courage [pg 68] to undertake and to achieve, according to my ability, all honourable things that the mind of a lover dare think on or do for love of lady. And, sweet Lady, and my goddess on earth, since you can, with much ease, greatly gladden him who loves and worships you as his most coveted possession, deign to recognise how that, by your tender solace, he may be saved from death, and life may be restored to him. And if you would ask or would know what has brought him to this, I tell you that it is your very sweet, pleasing, beautiful, laughing, and loving eyes. Ah, Lady, since it is by them that this cruel wound has been inflicted, it seems to me but just that it should be soothed and healed by the delight of your compassion. Therefore may it please you, very winsome and honoured Lady, to make me acquainted with your good pleasure, and whether you would that I die or recover. By no means would I weary you with a long letter, and be assured that I know not how to tell or to write fully how matters stand with me, but you will indeed come to know this, whether I win your love or not, for, if I fail in this, you will see me die, but if by good fortune I win it, the result will be seen in willing service. So I send [pg 69] you these two ballads here enclosed, the which may it please you to receive kindly. Very beautiful and fair one, whose praise I am not able duly to set forth, I pray God that He will vouchsafe to you as many favours and delights as the tears the which I have shed for love of you.—Written with a fervent and longing heart,
Your very humble and obedient slave.
To her who surpasses all, and whom my heart fears and worships
Your very humble and obedient slave.
BALLAD
Sweet Lady, fair and gentle without peer,
Have mercy on me, who all thy words obey
Body and soul do I abandon here
Unto thy will, and humbly thus I pray:
Come quickly nigh,
Have pity, and cure my sickness when I cry:
Oh, I beseech thee, graciously attend
And so consent to take me for thy friend.
To thee I give myself, O flower most dear.
For mercy I beseech, and wilt thou slay?
I charge thee by that Lord whom we revere
To lift this wrong that crushes me away.
No help have I
From any other: leave me not to die!
See, faithfully I serve thee to the end,
And so consent to take me for thy friend.
[pg 70]
Seest thou not how I shed full many a tear:
And if thy help for longer shall delay
I am but shent, what need to speak more clear?
Ah, love me, Love so holds me in his sway!
Then hither hie,
Be merciful, for near to death I lie:
'Tis truth, thou knowest, I have no hope to mend,
And so consent to take me for thy friend.
Lady, I thank thee, and all my duty send,
And so consent to take me for thy friend.
ANOTHER BALLAD
In this sad world have pity, my lady dear,
Dear to me more than any other there:
Their pride you know not; let not gracious cheer
Cheer me at so great cost, oh white and fair!
Fare I thus ill, yet canst thou bid me see
Seasons of solace that may comfort me.
If for unfitness I be slighted here,
Here am I dead, and arrows of despair
Spare not to pierce my heart, and life grows drear,
Drear as my brooding on the doom I bear.
Bear witness, Love withholds in obduracy
Seasons of solace that might comfort me.
O loveliest one and sweetest, without peer,
Peerless in honour, of all bounties heir,
Ere I thy servant pine in sorry fear
Fear not a kind and gentle guise to wear.
[pg 71]
Where shall I find, 'mid this deep dolorous sea,
Seasons of solace that may comfort me?
Dear Lady, grant in gracious courtesy
Seasons of solace that may comfort me.
Thus as you have heard did I write to my lady, and by my letter I made known to her my trouble, for to gain her solace. And my cousin bare the letter. For awhile he remained on his guard, and carefully watched for the time when he could safely have speech of her. And then he told her of my letter, at the which she in nowise made complaint, but received it gladly. And, smiling, she read the letter and the ballads twice or thrice, and then the fair and gracious one said, “I will write in reply to your cousin, and more I will not say to you now, but I will set me about it. And whiles that I am so occupied, do you divert yourself with chess, and checkmate my kinswoman here.”