With ladies, knights, and squiers,
And a great host of ministers,
With instruments and sounes diuerse,
That long were here to rehearse,
Which tent was church perochiall,
Ordaint was in especiall,
For the feast and for the sacre,
Where archbishop, and archdiacre
Song full out the seruise,
After the custome and the guise,
And the churches ordinaunce,
And after that to dine and daunce
Brought were we, and to diuers playes,
And for our speed ech with prayes,
And merry was most and least,
And said amended was the feast,
And were right glad lady and lord,
Of the marriage and thaccord,
And wished us hertes pleasaunce,
Joy, hele, and continuaunce,
And to the ministrils made request,
That in encreasing of the fest,
They would touch their cords,
And with some new joyeux accords,
Mooue the people to gladnesse,
And praiden of all gentilnesse,
Ech to paine them for the day,
To shew his cunning and his play,
Tho began sownes meruelous,
Entuned with accords joyous,
Round about all the tents,
With thousands of instruments,
That euery wight to daunce them pained,
To be merry was none that fained,
Which sowne me troubled in my sleepe,
That fro my bed forth I lepe,
Wening to be at the feast,
But whan I woke all was seast,
For there nas lady ne creature,
Saue on the wals old portraiture
Of horsmen, haukes, and hounds,
And hurt deere full of wounds,
Some like bitten, some hurt with shot,
And as my dreame seemed that was not,
And whan I wake, and knew the trouth,
And ye had seen of very routh,
I trow ye would haue wept a weke,
For neuer man yet halfe so seke,
I went escaped with the life,
And was for fault that sword ne knife
I find ne might my life tabridge,
Ne thing that kerued, ne had edge,
Wherewith I might my woful pains
Haue voided with bleeding of my vains,
Lo here my blisse, lo here my paine,
Which to my lady I do complaine,
And grace and mercy her require,
To end my wo and busie feare,
And me accept to her seruise,
After her seruice in such auise,
That of my dreame the substaunce
Might turne once to cognisaunce,
And cognisaunce to very preue,
By full consent, and good leue,
Or els without more I pray,
That this night, or it be day,
I mote vnto my dreame returne,
And sleeping so forth aie sojourne
About the yle of pleasaunce,
Under my ladies obeisaunce,
In her seruise, and in such wise,
As it please her may to deuise,
And grace ones to be accept,
Like as I dreamed whan I slept,
And dure a thousand yeare and ten,
In her good will, amen, amen.
Fairest of faire, and goodliest on liue,
All my secret to you I plaine, and shriue,
Requiring grace and of complaint,
To be healed or martyred as a saint,
For by my trouth I sweare, and by this booke, Ye may both heale, and slea me with a looke.
Go forth mine owne true herte innocent,
And with humblesse, do thine obseruaunce,
And to thy lady on thy knees present
Thy seruise new, and think how great pleasance
It is to liue vnder thobeisance
Of her that may with her looks soft
Gine thee the blisse that thou desirest oft.
Be diligent, awake, obey, and drede,
And not too wild of thy countenaunce,
But meeke and glad, and thy nature feed,
To do each thing that may her pleasance,
Whan thou shalt sleep, haue aie in remembrance
Thimage of her which may with lookes soft
Giue thee the blisse that thou desirest oft.
And if so be that thou her name find
Written in booke, or els vpon wall,
Looke that thou as seruaunt true and kind,
Thine obeisaunce as she were therewithall,
Faining in loue is breeding of a fall
From the grace of her, whose lookes soft
May giue the blisse that thou desirest oft.
Ye that this ballede read shall,
I pray you keepe you from the fall.
A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove, seeth a great company of knights and ladies in a daunce upon the greene grass: the which being ended, they all kneel down, and do honour to the daisie, some to the flower, and some to the leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth by one of these ladies the meaning hereof, which is this: They which honour the flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly pleasure. But they that honour the leaf, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter storms, are they which follow vertue and during qualities, without regard of worldly respects.
WMAN that Phebus his chaire of gold so hie
Had whirled vp the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Boole was entred certainely,
Whan shoures sweet of raine discended oft,
Causing the ground fele times and oft,
Up for to giue many an wholesome_aire,
And euery plaine was clothed faire
With new green, and maketh small floures
To springen here and there in field and in mede,
So very good and wholesom be the shoures,
That it renueth that was old and dede,
In winter time and out of euery sede
Springeth the hearbe, so that euery wight
Of this season wexeth glad and light.
And I so glad of the season swete,
Was happed thus vpon a certaine night,
As I lay in my bed, sleepe full vnmete
Was vnto me, but why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist, for there nas earthly wight
As I suppose had more hertes ease
Than I, for I nad sicknesse nor disease.
Wherefore I meruail greatly of my selfe,
That I so long withouten sleepe lay,
And vp I rose thee houres after twelfe,
About the springing of the day,
And on I put my geare and mine array,
And to a pleasaunt groue I gan passe,
Long or the bright Sonne vp risen was.
In which were okes great, streight as a line, Under the which the grasse so fresh of hew, Was newly sprong, and an eight foot or nine Euery tree well fro his fellow grew,
With branches brode, lade with leues new, That sprongen out ayen the sunne sheue, Some very red, and some a glad light grene.
Which as me thought was right a pleasant sight,
And eke the briddes song for to here,
Would haue rejoyced any earthly wight,
And I that couth not yet in no manere
Heare the nightingale of all the yeare,
Ful busily herkened with herte and with eare,
If I her voice perceiue coud any where.
And at the last a path of little bread
I found, that greatly had not vsed be,
For it forgrowne was with grasse and weed,
That weil vnneth a wight might it se:
Thoght I this path some whider goth parde,
And so I followed, till it me brought
To right a pleasaunt herber well ywrought,
That benched was, and with turfes new
Freshly turued, whereof the grene gras,
So small, so thicke, so short, so fresh of hew,
That most like vnto green well wot I it was,
The hegge also that yede in compas,
And closed in all the greene herbere,
With sicamour was set and eglatere.
Wrethen in fere so well and cunningly,
That euery branch and leafe grew by mesure,
Plaine as a bord, of an height by and by,
I see neuer thing I you ensure,
So well done, for he that tooke the cure
It to make ytrow, did all his peine
To make it passe all tho that men haue seine.
And shapen was this herber roofe and all
As a prety parlour, and also
The hegge as thicke as a castle wall,
That who that list without to stond or go,
Though he would all day prien to and fro,
He should not see if there were any wight
Within or no, but one within well might
Perceive all tho that yeden there without In the field that was on euery side
Couered with corn and grasse, that out of doubt,
Though one would seeke all the world wide,
So rich a field coud not be espide
On no coast, as of the quantity,
For of all good thing there was plenty.
And I that all this pleasaunt sight sie,
Thought sodainly I felt so sweet an aire
Of the eglentere, that certainely
There is no herte I deme in such dispaire,
Ne with thoughts froward and contraire,.
So ouerlaid, but it should soone haue bote,
If it had ones felt this sauour sote.
And as I stood and cast aside mine eie,
I was ware of the fairest medle tree
That euer yet in all my life I sie,
As full of blossomes as it might be,
Therein a goldfinch leaping pretile
Fro bough to bough, and as him list he eet
Here and there of buds and floures sweet.
And to the herber side was joyning
This faire tree, of which I haue you told,
And at the last the brid began to sing,
Whan he had eaten what he eat wold,
So passing sweetly, that by manifold
It was more pleasaunt than I coud deuise,
And whan his song was ended in this wise,
The nightingale with so merry a note
Answered him, that all the wood rong
So sodainly, that as it were a sote,
I stood astonied, so was I with the song
Thorow rauished, that till late and long,
I ne wist in what place I was, ne where,
And ayen me thought she song euen by mine ere.
Wherefore I waited about busily
On euery side, if I her might see,
And at the last I gan full well aspie
Where she sat in a fresh grene laurer tree,
On the further side euen right by me,
That gaue so passing a delicious smell,
According to the eglentere full well.
Whereof I had so inly great pleasure,
That as me thought I surely rauished was
Into Paradice, where my desire
Was for to be, and no ferther passe
As for that day, and on the sote grasse
I sat me downe, for as for mine entent,
The birds song was more conuenient,
And more pleasaunt to me by manifold,
Than meat or drinke, or any other thing,
Thereto the berber was so fresh and cold,
The wholesome sauours eke so comforting,
That as I demed, sith the beginning
Of the world was neuer seene or than
So pleasaunt a ground of none earthly man.
And as I sat the birds barkening thus,
Me thought that I heard voices sodainly,
The most sweetest and most delicious
That euer any wight I trow truly
Heard in their life, for the armony
And sweet accord was in so good musike,
That the uoice to angels most was like,
At the last out of a groue euen by,
That was right goodly and pleasant to sight,
I sie where there came singing lustily
A world of ladies, but to tell aright
Their great beauty it lieth not in my might,
Ne their array, neuerthelesse I shall
Tell you a part, though I speake not of all.
The surcotes white of veluet wele sitting,
They were in clad, and the semes echone,
As it were a manner garnishing,
Was set with emerauds one and one,
By and by, but many a rich stone
Was set on the purfles out of dout
Of colors, sleues, and traines round about.
As great pearles round and orient,
Diamonds fine and rubies red,
And many another stone, of which I went
The names now, and euerich on her head
A rich fret of gold, which without dread
Was full of stately rich stones set,
And euery lady had a chapelet
On her head of fresh and greene,
So wele wrought and so meruellously,
That it was a noble sight to seene,
Some of laurer, and some full pleasantly
Had chapelets of woodbind, and sadly
Some of agnus castus were also
Chapelets fresh, but there were many of tho
That daunced and eke song full soberly,
But all they yede in manner of compace,
But one there yede in mid the company,
Soole by her selfe, but all followed the pace
That she kept, whose heauenly figured face
So pleasant was, and her wele shape person,
That of beauty she past hem euerichone.
And more richly beseene by manifold
She was also in euery manner thing,
On her head full pleasaunt to behold,
A crowne of gold rich for any king,
A braunch of agnus castus eke bearing
In her hand, and to my sight truly,
She lady was of the company.
And she began a roundell lustely,
That "Suse le foyle, de vert moy," men call,
"Seen et mon ioly cuer en dormy,"
And than the company answered all,
With voice sweet entuned, and so small,
That me thought it the sweetest melody
That euer I heard in my life soothly.
And thus they came dauncing and singing
Into the middest of the mede echone,
Before the herber where I was sitting,
And God wot me thought I was wel bigone,
For than I might auise hem one by one,
Who fairest was, who coud best dance or sing,
Or who most womanly was in all thing.
They had not daunced but a little throw,
Whan that I heard not ferre off sodainly,
So great a noise of thundring trumps blow,
As though it should haue departed the skie,
And after that within a while I sie,
From the same groue where the ladies come out,
Of men of armes comming such a rout,
As all the men on earth had ben assembled
In that place, wele horsed for the nones,
Stering so fast, that all the earth trembled:
But for to speake of riches and stones,
And men and horse I trow the large wones,
Of Pretir John ne all his tresory,
Might not vnneth haue boght the tenth party.
Of their array who so list heare more,
I shall rehearse so as I can alite:
Out of the groue that I spake of before,
I sie come first all in their clokes white,
A company that ware for their delite,
Chapelets fresh of okes seriall,
Newly sprong, and trumpets they were all.
On euery trumpe hanging a broad banere
Of fine tartarium were full richely bete,
Euery trumpet his lords armes bere
About their neckes with great pearles sete,
Collers brode for cost they would not lete,
As it would seem for their schochones echone,
Were set about with many a precious stone.
Their horse harneis was all white also,
And after them next in one company,
Came kings of armes and no mo
In clokes of white cloth of gold richly,
Chapelets of greene on their heads on hie,
The crowns that they on their scochones bere,
Were set with pearle, ruby, and saphere.
And eke great diamonds many one,
But all their horse harneis and other geare
Was in a sute according euerychone,
As ye haue heard that foresaid trumpets were,
And by seeming they were nothing to lere,
And their guiding, they did so manerly,
And after hem came a great company
Of herauds and purseuaunts eke,
Arrayed in clothes of white veluet,
And hardily they were no thing to seke,
How they on hem should the harneis set,
And euery man had on a chapelet
Scochones and eke horse harneis indede,
They had in sute of hem that before hem yede.
Next after hem came in armour bright
All saue their beads, seemely knights nine,
And euery claspe and naile as to my sight
Of their harneis were of red gold fine,
With cloth of gold, and furred with ermine
Were the trappors of their stedes strong,
Wide and large, that to the ground did hong.
And euery bosse of bridle and paitrell
That they had, was worth as I would wene,
A thousand pound, and on their heads well
Dressed were crownes of laurer grene,
The best made that euer I had sene,
And euery knight had after him riding
Three henshmen on him awaiting.
Of which euery on o short tronchoun
His lords helme bare, so richly dight,
That the worst was worth the ransoun
Of a king, the second a shield bright
Bare at his necke, the thred bare vpright
A mighty spere, full sharpe ground and kene,
And euery child ware of leaues grene
A fresh chapelet vpon his haires bright,
And clokes white of fine veluet they were,
Their steeds trapped and raied right
Without difference as their lords were,
And after hem on many a fresh corsere,
There came of armed knights such a rout,
That they besprad the large field about.
And all they ware after their degrees
Chaplets new made of laurer grene,
Some of oke, and some of other trees,
Some in their honds bare boughs shene,
Some of laurer, and some of okes kene,
Some of hauthorne, and some of wood bind,
And many mo which I had not in mind.
And so they came their horses freshly stering
With bloody sownes of hir trompes loud,
There sie I many an vncouth disguising
In the array of these knights proud,
And at the last as euenly as they coud,
They took their places in middes of the mede,
And euery knight turned his horse hede
To his fellow, and lightly laid a spere
In the rest, and so justes began
On euery part about here and there,
And at the last I cast mine eye aside,
And was ware of a lusty company
That came roming out of the field wide,
Hond in hond a knight and a lady,
The ladies all in surcotes, that richely
Purfiled were with many a rich stone,
And euery knight of green ware mantles on,
Embrouded well so as the surcotes were,
And cuerich had a chapelet on her hed,
Which did right well vpon the shining here,
Made of goodly floures white and red,
The knights eke that they in hond led
In sute of hem ware chapelets euerychone,
And before hem went minstrels many one,
As harpes, pipes, lutes, and sautry
All in greene, and on their heads bare
Of diuers floures made full craftely
All in a sute goodly chapelets they ware,
And so dauncing into the mede they fare,
In mid the which they found a tuft that was
All ouersprad with floures in compas.
Whereto they enclined euerychone
With great reuerence, and that full humbly,
And at the last there began anone
Some brake his spere, some drew down hors and man, A lady for to sing right womanly
About the field astray the steeds ran,
And to behold their rule and gouernaunce,
I you ensure it was a great pleasaunce.
And so the justs last an houre and more,
But tho that crowned were in laurer grene,
Wan the prise, their dints were so sore,
That there was none ayenst hem might sustene,
And the justing all was left off clene,
And fro their horse the ninth alight anone,
And so did all the remnant euerichone.
And forth they yede togider twain and twain,
That to behold it was a worthy sight
Toward the ladies on the greene plaine,
That song and daunced as I said now right:
The ladies as soone as they goodly might,
They brake of both the song and dance,
And yede to meet hem with ful glad semblance.
And euery lady tooke full womanly
By the hond a knight, and forth they yede
Unto a faire laurer that stood fast by,
With leues lade the boughes of great brede,
And to my dome there neuer was indede
Man, that had seene halfe so faire a tree,
For vnderneath there might it well haue be
An hundred persons at their owne plesance
Shadowed fro the heat of Phebus bright,
So that they should haue felt no greuance
Of raine ne haile that hem hurt might,
The sauour eke rejoice would any wight,
That had be sicke or melancolius,
It was so very good and vertuous.
And with great reuerence they enclining low
To the tree so soot and faire of hew,
And after that within a little throw
They began to sing and daunce of new,
Some song of loue, some plaining of vntrew,
Enuironning the tree that stood vpright,
And euer yede a lady and a knight.
A bargaret in praising the daisie,
For as me thought among her notes swete,
She said "Si douset et la Margarete."
Than they all answered her in fere,
So passingly well, and so pleasauntly,
That it was a blisful noise to here,
But I not it happed suddainly,
As about noone the Sonne so feruently
Waxe hote, that the prety tender floures
Had lost the beauty of hir fresh colours.
For shronke with heat, the ladies eke to brent,
That they ne wist where they hem might bestow,
The knights swelt for lack of shade nie shent,
And after that within a little throw,
The wind began so sturdily to blow,
That down goeth all the floures euerichone,
So that in all the mede there laft not one,
Save such as succoured were among the leues,
Fro euery storme that might hem assaile,
Growing vnder hedges and thicke grenes,
And after that there came a storme of haile,
And raine in fere, so that withouten faile,
The ladies ne the knights nade o threed
Drie on them, so dropping was hir weed.
And whan the storm was cleane passed away,
Tho in white that stood vnder the tree,
They felt nothing of the great affray,
That they in greene without had in ybe,
To them they yede for routh and pite,
Them to comfort after their great disease,
So faine they were the helplesse for to ease.
Than I was ware how one of hem in grene
Had on a crowne rich and well sitting,
Wherefore I demed well she was a quene,
And tho in greene on her were awaiting,
The ladies than in white that were comming
Toward them, and the knights in fere
Began to comfort hem, and make hem chere,
The queen in white, that was of great beauty,
Took by the hond the queen that was in grene,
And said, "Suster, I have right great pitie
Of your annoy, and of the troublous tene,
Wherein ye and your company haue bene
So long alas, and if that it you please
To go with me, I shall do you the ease,
"In all the pleasure that I can or may,"
Whereof the tother humbly as she might,
Thanked her, for in right ill array
She was with storm and heat I you behight,
And euery lady than anone right
That were in white, one of them took in grene
By the hond, which whan the knights had sene,
In likewise ech of them tooke a knight
Clad in greene, and forth with hem they fare,
To an hegge, where they anon right
To make their justs they would not spare
Boughes to hew down, and eke trees square,
Wherwith they made hem stately fires great,
To dry their clothes that were wringing weat.
And after that of hearbs that there grew, They made for blisters of the Sunne brenning, Very good and wholesome ointments new, Where that they yede the sick fast anointing, And after that they yede about gadering Pleasaunt salades which they made hem eat, For to refresh their great vnkindly heat.
The lady of the Leafe than began to pray
Her of the Floure (for so to my seeming
They should be as by their array)
To soupe with her, and eke for any thing,
That she should with her all her people bring:
And she ayen in right goodly manere,
Thanketh her of her most friendly cheare,
Saying plainely that she would obay
With all her herte all her commaundement,
And than anon without lenger delay
The lady of the Leafe hath one ysent
For a palfray, after her intent,
Arrayed well and faire in barneis of gold,
For nothing lacked, that to him long shold.
And after that to all her company
She made to puruey horse and euery thing
That they needed, and than full lustily,
Euen by the herber where I was sitting
They passed all so pleasantly singing,
That it would haue comforted any wight,
But than I sie a passing wonder sight.
For than the nightingale, that all the day
Had in the laurer sete, and did her might
The whole seruice to sing longing to May,
All sodainly gan to take her flight,
And to the lady of the Leafe forthright
She flew, and set her on her hond softly,
Which was a thing I marueled of greatly.
The goldfinch eke, that fro the medle tree
Was fled for heat into the bushes cold,
Unto the lady of the Flower gan flee,
And on her hond he set him as he wold,
And pleasauntly his wings gan to fold,
And for to sing they pained hem both as sore,
As they had do of all the day before.
And so these ladies rode forth a great pace,
And all the rout of knights eke in fere,
And I that had seen all this wonder case,
Thought I would assay in some manere,
To know fully the trouth of this matere,
And what they were that rode so pleasantly,
And whan they were the herber passed by,
I drest me forth, and happed to mete anone
Right a faire lady I you ensure,
And she come riding by her selfe alone,
All in white, with semblance ful demure :
I saluted her, and bad her good auenture
Might her befall, as I coud most humbly,
And she answered, "My doughter gramercy."
"Madame" (quod I)" if that I durst enquere
Of you I would faine of that company
Wit what they be that past by this arbere,"
And she ayen answered right friendly:
"My faire doughter, all tho that passed here by
In white clothing, be seruaunts euerichone
Unto the Leafe, and I my selfe am one.
"See ye not her that crowned is" (quod she)
"All in white?"—" Madame" (quod I)" yes:"
"That is Diane, goddesse of chastite,
And for because that she a maiden is,
In her hond the braunch she beareth this,
That agnus castus men call properly,
And all the ladies in her company
"Which ye se of that hearb chaplets weare,
Be such as han kept alway hir maidenheed:
And all they that of laurer chaplets beare,
Be such as hardy were and manly indeed,
Victorious name which neuer may be dede,
And all they were so worthy of their hond,
In hir time that none might hem withstond.
"And tho that weare chaplets on their bede
Of fresh wood bind, be such as neuer were
To loue vntrue in word, thought, ne dede,
But aye stedfast, ne for pleasance ne fere,
Thogh that they shuld their hertes all to tere,
Would neuer flit but euer were stedfast,
Till that their liues there asunder brast."
"Now faire madame" (quod 1) "yet I would pray,
Your ladiship if that it might be,
That I might know by some maner way,
Sith that it hath liked your beaute.
The trouth of these ladies for to tell me,
What that these kuights be in rich armour,
And what tho be in grene and weate the flour?
"And why that some did reuerence to that tre,
And some vnto the plot of floures faire:"
"With right good will my fair doghter" (quod she)
"Sith your desire is good and debonaire,
Tho nine crowned be very exemplaire,
Of all honour longing to chiualry,
And those certaine be called the nine worthy,
"Which ye may see riding all before,
That in hir time did many a noble dede,
And for their worthinesse full oft haue bore
The crowne of laurer leaues on their hede,
As ye may in your old bookes rede,
And how that he that was a conquerour,
Had by laurer alway his most honour.
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