All the shepherds replied together that it would be a great joy to them to hear him. And straightway Marsilio, moved by the desire he had to listen to him, played his pipe, to the sound of which Lauso began to sing in this wise:
LAUSO.
Unto the ground I sink on bended knee,
My suppliant hands clasped humbly, and my breast
Filled with a righteous and a loving zeal;
Holy disdain, I worship thee; in thee
Are summed the causes of the dainty feast
Which I in calm and ease enjoy full well;
For, of the rigour of the poison fell
Which Love's ill doth contain,
Thou wert the certain and the speedy cure,
Turning my ruin sure
To good, my war to healthy peace again.
Wherefore not once, but times beyond all measure,
I do adore thee as my kindliest treasure.
Through thee the light of these my wearied eyes,
Which was so long troubled and even lost,
Hath turned again to what it was before;
Through thee again I glory in the prize
Which from my will and life at bitter cost
Love's ancient tyranny in triumph bore.
'Twas thou that didst my error's night restore
To bright unclouded day,
'Twas thou that ledd'st the reason, which of old
Foul slavery did hold,
Into a peaceful and a wiser way;
Reason, now mistress, guideth me to where
Eternal bliss doth show and shine more clear.
From thee I learned, disdain, how treacherous,
How false and feigned had been those signs of love,
Which the fair maid did to my eyes display,
And how those words and whispers amorous,
That charmed the ear so much, and caused to rove
The soul, leading it from itself astray,
Were framed in falsehood and in mockery gay;
How the glance of those eyes,
So sweet and tender, did but seek my doom,
That unto winter's gloom
Might be transformed my springtime's sunny skies,
What time I should be clearly undeceived;
But, sweet disdain, thou hast the wound relieved.
Disdain, disdain, ever the sharpest goad
That urges on the fancy to pursue
After the loving, long-desirèd need,
In me changed is thy practice and thy mood,
For, by thee led, the purpose I eschew
Which once I followed hard with unseen speed;
And, though Love, ill-contented with my deed,
Doth never, never, rest,
But spreads the noose to seize me as before,
And, to wound me the more,
Aimeth a thousand shafts against my breast,
'Tis thou, disdain, alone that art my friend,
Thou canst his arrows break, his meshes rend.
My love, though simple, yet is not so weak
That one disdain could bring it to the ground,
Countless disdains were needed for the blow,
E'en as the pine is doomed at last to break
And fall to earth—though on its trunk resound
Full many a blow, the last 'tis brings it low.
Weighty disdain, with countenance of woe,
Who art on love's absence based,
On poor opinion of another's lot,
To see thee hath been fraught
With joy to me, to hear thee and to taste,
To know that thou hast deigned, with soul allied
To beat down and to end my foolish pride.
Thou beatest down my folly, and dost aid
The intellect to rise on lofty wing
And shake off heavy slumber from the mind,
So that with healthy purpose undismayed
It may the power and praise of others sing,
If it perchance a grateful mistress find.
Thou hast the henbane, wherewith Love unkind
Lullèd my sorrowing strength
To slumber, robbed of vigour, thou, in pride
Of glowing strength, dost guide
Me back unto new life and ways at length,
For now I know that I am one who may
Fear within bounds and hope without dismay.
Lauso sang no more, though what he had sung sufficed to fill those present with wonder, for, as all knew that the day before he was so much in love and so content to be so, it made them marvel to see him in so short a space of time so changed and so different from what he was wont to be. And having considered this well, his friend Thyrsis said to him: