[The author having passed a sleepless night. though why she knows not, as she has neither sickness nor disease, wanders out early.]

And up I roos three hourës after twelfe,
Aboute the [erly] springing of the day;
And on I putte my geare and mine array,
And to a pleasaunt grove I gan to passe,
Long or the brightë Sonne up-risen was;
In which were okës grete, streight as a line,
Under the which the gras, so fresh of hew,
Was newly spronge; and an eight foot or nine
Every tree wel fro his fellow grew,

With branches brode, laden with levës new,
That sprongen out ayen the sunnë shene,
Some very red, and some a glad light grene;

Which, as me thoughte, was right a plesant sight;
And eke the briddës songës for to here
Would have rejoyced any earthly wight;
And I that couthe not yet, in no manere,
Herë the nightingale of all the yere,
Ful busily herkned with hart and ere,
If I her voice perceive coude any-where.
And, at the last, a path of little breede1
I found, that gretly hadde not used be;
For it forgrowen was with grasse and weede,
That well unneth a wight [ne] might it se:
Thoght I, 'This path some whider goth, pardé !'
And so I followed, till it me brought

To right a pleasaunt herber,2 well ywrought,

That benched was, and eke with turfës newe
Freshly turved, whereof the grenë gras,

So small, so thicke, so short, so fresh of hewe,
That most ylike grene wool, I wot, it was:
The hegge also that yede in this compas3,
And closed in all the grene herbere,

With sicamour was set and eglatere.

And as I stood and cast aside mine eie,
I was ware of the fairest medler-tree,
That ever yet in all my life I sie1,
As full of blossomes as it mightë be;
Therein a goldfinch leaping pretile

Fro bough to bough; and, as him list, gan ete
Of buddes here and there and flourës swete.

And to the herber side ther was joyninge
This faire tree, of which I have you told;
And at the last the brid began to singe,
When he had eten what he etë wolde,
So passing sweetly, that by manifolde
It was more pleasaunt than I coude devise.
And when his song was ended in this wise,
The nightingale with so mery a note
Answered him, that all the woodë rong
So sodainly, that, as it were a sote2,
I stood astonied; so was I with the song
Thorow ravishëd, that till late and longe,
Ne wist I in what place I was, ne where;
And ay, me thoughte, she song even by mine ere

Wherefore about I waited busily,

On every side, if that I her mighte see;
And, at the last, I gan full well aspie
Where she sat in a fresh grene laurer trce,
On the further side, even right by me,
That gave so passing a delicious smell,
According to the eglantere full well.

And as I sat, the briddës harkening thus,
Me thoughte that I herde voices sodainly,
The most sweetest and most delicious

That ever any wight, I trow truly,

Herd in here life; for sothe the armony
And sweet accord was in so good musike,

That the voice[s] to angels most were3 like.

1

saw.

8

sot, fool.

3 Old ed. was

And at the last, out of a grove faste by,
That was right goodly and pleasant to sight,
I sie where there cam, singing lustily,

A world of ladies; but, to tell aright
Her grete beautie, it lieth not in my might,
Ne her array; neverthelesse I shall

Telle you a part, though I speake not of all

6

THE COURT OF LOVE.

The Court of Love (date about 1500) is a poem of the Chaucerian school, containing many echoes of Chaucer, and making distinct reference to The Compleynte of Pite and The Legende of Goode Women. Philogenet, of Cambridge Clerk,' who, in the days of unreflecting Chaucerian criticism, was always supposed to represent the young Chaucer himself, repairs to the Court of Venus, where he finds Admetus and Alceste, the heroine of The Legende of Goode Women, .with her 'ladies good nineteene' presiding over the Castle of Love. The Queen's handmaid Philobone takes him in charge and shows him the wonders of the place. He swears allegiance to the Twenty Statutes of Love, and is then introduced to the Lady Rosial, with whom he has already fallen in love in his dream, and whose presence inspires him with long protestations of devotion. Rosial is for the time obdurate, and sends him away again with Philobone to wait her pleasure. After a graphic description of the Courtiers of Love, an unequal but vigorous piece of writing, there appears to be a break in the poem, for we find ourselves suddenly in the middle of a tender speech of Rosial, who describes how Pite, risen from the shrine in which Philogenet had seen her buried within the temple of Venus, had softened her breast towards him. The poem ends with one of the favourite bird-scenes of the time, a curious paraphrase of the Matins for Trinity Sunday. This song in honour of Love, sung on May morning by a chorus of birds, should be compared with the last scenes of the Parlement of Foules.

The first of the following extracts, a beautiful sketch of Privy Thought or Fancy, among the Courtiers of Love, is full of delicate imagination, and represents the author better than the tedious Statutes of Love, or the hymn to Venus, taken from Boethius, of

which his master, Chaucer, had before him made more successfui use. The second piece, which represents the close of the Mav festival, is so characteristic of the school of poetry and of the time, that it will bear quoting, in spite of its conventionality.

And Prevye Thought, rejoycing of hym-self,
Stode not fer thens in abite mervelous;
'Yon is,' thought I, 'som sprite or som elf,
His sotill image is so curious •

How is,' quod I, 'that he is shaded thus
With yonder cloth, I note' of what coloure ?'
And nere I went and gan to lere and pore,
And framed him a question full hard.
'What is,' quod I, 'the thyng thou lovest best?
Or what is bote2 unto thy paynës hard?
Me think thou livest here in grete unrest,
Thow wandrest ay from south to est and west,
And est to north; as fer as I can see,
There is no place in courte may holden the.

'Whom folowest thow? where is thy harte iset?
But my demaunde asoile I thee require.'

3

'Me thoughte,' quod he, 'no creature may lette
Me to ben here and where as I desire:

For where as absence hath don out the fire,
My mery thought it kyndelith yet agayn,
That bodily me thinke with my souverayne

'I stand and speke, and laugh, and kisse, and halse',

So that my thought comforteth me ful ofte :

I think, God wot, though all the world be false,

I wil be trewe; I think also how softe

My lady is in speche, and this on-lofte

Bryngeth myn harte in joye and grete gladnesse ;
This prevey thought alayeth myne hevynesse.

'And what I thinke or where to be, no man
In all this erth can tell, iwis, but I:

And eke there nys no swalowe swifte, ne swan

I know not.

• remedy.

9 absolve, solve.

• embrace,

2

So wight of wyng, ne half so yerne can flye;
For I can ben, and that right sodenly,

In Heven, in Helle, in Paradise, and here,
And with my lady, whan I wil desire.

'I am of councell ferre and wide, I wot,
With lord and lady, and here privité

I wot it all; and be it cold or hoot,

Thay shalle not speke withoute licence of me.

I mynde, in suche as sesonable bee,

4

Tho first the thing is thought withyn the harte,
Er any worde out from the mouth astarte.'

*

*

*

And furth the cokkowe gan procede anon,
With 'Benedictus' thankyng God in haste,
That in this May wold visite hem echon,
And gladden hem all while the feste shall laste:
And therewithal a loughter out he braste,

thanke it God that I shuld ende the song,
And all the service which hath ben so long.'
Thus sange thay all the service of the feste,
And that was done right erly, to my dome;
And furth goth all the courte, bothe moste and leste,
To feche the flourës fressh, and braunche and blome;
And namly hawthorn brought both page and grome,
With fressh garlantis, partie blewe and white,

And hem rejoysen in her grete delite.

Eke eche at other threw the flourës brighte,

The prymerose, the violet, and the goldeR;
So than, as I beheld the riall sighte,

My lady gan me sodenly beholde,

And with a trewe love, plited many-folde,

She smote me thrugh the very harte as blive',

And Venus yet I thanke I am alive.