Matter and Style.—As regards the literary character of these compositions it must be allowed that they have, as Warton says, ‘much real and intrinsic merit.’ There is indeed a grace and poetical feeling in some of them which makes them probably the best things of the kind that have been produced by English writers of French, and as good as anything of the kind which had up to that time been written in English. The author himself has marked them off into two unequal divisions. The poems of the first class (i-v) express for us the security of the accepted lover, whose suit is to end in lawful marriage:
‘Jeo sui tout soen et elle est toute moie,
Jeo l’ai et elle auci me voet avoir;
Pour tout le mond jeo ne la changeroie.’ (Bal. v.)
From these he passes to those expressions of feeling which apply to lovers generally, ‘qui sont diversement travailez en la fortune d’amour.’ Nothing can be more graceful in its way than the idea and expression of Bal. viii, ‘D’estable coer, qui nullement se mue,’ where the poet’s thought is represented as a falcon, flying on the wings of longing and desire in a moment across the sea to his absent mistress, and taking his place with her till he shall see her again. Once more, in Bal. xv, the image of the falcon appears, but this time it is a bird which is allowed to fly only with a leash, for so bound is the lover to his lady that he cannot but return to her from every flight. At another time (Bal. xviii) the lover is in despair at the hardness of his lady’s heart: drops of water falling will in time wear through the hardest stone; but this example will not serve him, for he cannot pierce the tender ears of his mistress with prayers, how urgent and repeated soever; God and the saints will hear his prayers, but she is harder than the marble of the quarry—the more he entreats, the less she listens, ‘Com plus la prie, et meinz m’ad entendu.’ Again (xiii) his state is like the month of March, now shine, now shower. When he looks on the sweet face of his lady and sees her ‘gentilesse,’ wisdom, and bearing, he has only pure delight; but when he perceives how far above him is her worth, fear and despair cloud over his joy, as the moon is darkened by eclipse. But in any case he must think of her (xxiv); she has so written her name on his heart that when he hears the chaplain read his litany he can think of nothing but of her. God grant that his prayer may not be in vain! Did not Pygmalion in time past by prayer obtain that his lady should be changed from stone to flesh and blood, and ought not other lovers to hope for the same fortune from prayer? He seems to himself to be in a dream, and he questions with himself and knows not whether he is a human creature or no, so absorbed is his being by his love. God grant that his prayer may not be in vain! He removes himself from her for a time (xxv) because of evil speakers, who with their slanders might injure her good name; but she must know that his heart is ever with her and that all his grief and joy hangs upon her, ‘Car qui bien aime ses amours tard oblie.’ But (xxix) she has misunderstood his absence; report tells him that she is angry with him. If she knew his thoughts, she would not be so disposed towards him; this balade he sends to make his peace, for he cannot bear to be out of her love. In another (xxxii) he expresses the deepest dejection: the New Year has come and is proceeding from winter towards spring, but for him there is winter only, which shrouds him in the thickest gloom. His lady’s beauty ever increases, but there is no sign of that kindness which should go with it; love only tortures him and gives him no friendly greeting. To this balade there is no Envoy, whether it be by negligence of the copyist, or because the lover could not even summon up spirit to direct it to his mistress. Again (xxxiii), he has given her his all, body and soul, both without recall, as a gift for this New Year of which he has just now spoken: his sole delight is to serve her. Will she not reward him even by a look? He asks for no present from her, let him only have some sign which may bid him hope, ‘Si plus n’y soit, donetz le regarder.’ The coming of Saint Valentine encourages him somewhat (xxxiv) with the reflection that all nature yields to love, but (xxxv) he remembers with new depression that though birds may choose their mates, yet he remains alone. May comes on (xxxvii), and his lady should turn her thoughts to love, but she sports with flowers and pays no heed to the prayer of her prisoner. She is free, but he is strongly bound; her close is full of flowers, but he cannot enter it; in the sweet season his fortune is bitter, May is for him turned into winter: ‘Vous estes franche et jeo sui fort lié.’
Then the lady has her say, and in accordance with the prerogative of her sex her moods vary with startling abruptness. She has doubts (xli) about her lover’s promises. He who swears most loudly is the most likely to deceive, and some there are who will make love to a hundred and swear to each that she is the only one he loves. ‘To thee, who art one thing in the morning and at evening another, I send this balade for thy reproof, to let thee know that I leave thee and care not for thee.’ In xliii she is fully convinced of his treachery, he is falser than Jason to Medea or Eneas to Dido. How different from Lancelot and Tristram and the other good knights! ‘C’est ma dolour que fuist ainçois ma joie.’ With this is contrasted the sentiment of xliv, in which the lady addresses one whom she regards as the flower of chivalry and the ideal of a lover, and to whom she surrenders unconditionally. The lady speaks again in xlvi, and then the series is carried to its conclusion with rather a markedly moral tone. At the end comes an address to the Virgin, in which the author declares himself bound to serve all ladies, but her above them all. No lover can really be without a loving mistress, for in her is love eternal and invariable. He loves and serves her with all his heart, and he trusts to have his reward. The whole concludes with an Envoy addressed to ‘gentle England,’ describing the book generally as a memorial of the joy which has come to the poet’s country from its noble king Henry, sent by heaven to redress its ills.
Printed Editions.—The Balades have been twice printed. They were published by the Roxburghe Club in 1818, together with the other contents of the Trentham MS. except the English poem, with the title ‘Balades and other Poems by John Gower. Printed from the original MS. in the library of the Marquis of Stafford at Trentham,’ Roxburghe Club, 1818, 4to. The editor was Earl Gower. This edition has a considerable number of small errors, several of which obscure the sense; only a small number of copies was printed, and the book can hardly be obtained.
In 1886 an edition of the Balades and of the Traitié was published in Germany under the name of Dr. Edmund Stengel in the series of ‘Ausgaben und Abhandlungen aus dem Gebiete der romanischen Philologie.’ The title of this book is ‘John Gower’s Minnesang und Ehezuchtbüchlein: LXXII anglonormannische Balladen ... neu herausgegeben von Edmund Stengel.’ Marburg, 1886. The preface is signed with the initials D. H. The editor of this convenient little book was unable to obtain access to the original MS., apparently because he had been wrongly informed as to the place where it was to be found, and accordingly printed the Balades from the Roxburghe edition with such emendations as his scholarship suggested. He removed a good many obvious errors of a trifling kind, and in a few cases he was successful in emending the text by conjecture. Some important corrections, however, still remained to be made, and in several instances he introduced error into the text either by incorrectly transcribing the Roxburghe edition or by unsuccessful attempts at emendation. I do not wish to speak with disrespect of this edition. The editor laboured under serious disadvantages in not being able to refer to the original MS. and in not having always available even a copy of the Roxburghe edition, so that we cannot be surprised that he should have made mistakes. I have found his text useful to work upon in collation, and some of his critical remarks are helpful.
The present Text.—The text of this edition is based directly on the MS., which remains still in the library at Trentham Hall and to which access was kindly allowed me by the Duke of Sutherland. I propose to describe the MS. fully, since it is of considerable interest, and being in a private library it is not generally accessible.
The Trentham MS., referred to as T., is a thin volume, containing 41 leaves of parchment, measuring about 6¼ in. x 9¼ in., and made up apparently as follows: a4, b1, c6, d—f8 (one leaf cut out), g1, h4, i2 (no catchwords).