|
"The God of love, a benedicite! |
| How myghty and how greet a lord is he! |
| Ayeyns his myght ther gayneth none obstacles, |
| 930 | He may be cleped a god for his myracles, |
| For he kan maken at his owene gyse |
| Of everich herte as that hym list divyse. |
| Lo heere, this Arcite and this Palamoun |
| That quitly weren out of my prisoun, |
| 935 | And myghte han lyved in Thebes roially, |
| And witen I am hir mortal enemy, |
| And that hir deth lith in my myght also; |
| And yet hath love, maugree hir eyen two, |
| Ybroght hem hyder bothe for to dye. |
| 940 | Now looketh, is nat that an heigh folye? |
| Who may been a fole, but if he love? |
| Bihoold, for Goddes sake that sit above, |
| Se how they blede! Be they noght wel arrayed? |
| Thus hath hir lord, the God of Love, ypayed |
| 945 | Hir wages and hir fees for hir servyse! |
| And yet they wenen for to been ful wyse, |
| That serven love, for aught that may bifalle! |
| But this is yet the beste game of alle, |
| That she, for whom they han this jolitee, |
| 950 | Kan hem therfore as muche thank, as me! |
| She woot namoore of al this hoote fare, |
| By God, than woot a cokkow or an hare! |
| But all moot ben assayed, hoot and coold; |
| A man moot ben a fool, or yong or oold; |
| 955 | I woot it by myself ful yore agon, |
| For in my tyme a servant was I oon. |
| And therfore, syn I knowe of loves peyne, |
| And woot how soore it kan a man distreyne, |
| As he that hath ben caught ofte in his laas, |
| 960 | I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespaas, |
| At requeste of the queene that kneleth heere, |
| And eek of Emelye, my suster deere. |
| And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere, |
| That nevere mo ye shal my contree dere, |
| 965 | Ne make werre upon me, nyght ne day, |
| But been my freendes in al that ye may, |
| I yow foryeve this trespas, every deel." |
| And they hym sworen his axyng, faire and weel, |
| And hym of lordship and of mercy preyde, |
| 970 | And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he seyde: |
|
| "The god of love, ah benedicite! |
| How mighty and how great a lord is he! |
| Against his might may stand no obstacles, |
| 930 | A true god is he by his miracles; |
| For he can manage, in his own sweet wise, |
| The heart of anyone as he devise. |
| Lo, here, Arcita and this Palamon, |
| That were delivered out of my prison, |
| 935 | And might have lived in Thebes right royally, |
| Knowing me for their mortal enemy, |
| And also that their lives lay in my hand; |
| And yet their love has wiled them to this land, |
| Against all sense, and brought them here to die! |
| 940 | Look you now, is not that a folly high? |
| Who can be called a fool, except he love? |
| And see, for sake of God who sits above, |
| See how they bleed! Are they not well arrayed? |
| Thus has their lord, the god of love, repaid |
| 945 | Their wages and their fees for their service! |
| And yet they are supposed to be full wise |
| Who serve love well, whatever may befall! |
| But this is yet the best jest of them all, |
| That she for whom they have this jollity |
| 950 | Can thank them for it quite as much as me; |
| She knows no more of all this fervent fare, |
| By God! than knows a cuckoo or a hare. |
| But all must be essayed, both hot and cold, |
| A man must play the fool, when young or old; |
| 955 | I know it of myself from years long gone: |
| For of love's servants I've been numbered one. |
| And therefore, since I know well all love's pain, |
| And know how sorely it can man constrain, |
| As one that has been taken in the net, |
| 960 | I will forgive your trespass, and forget, |
| At instance of my sweet queen, kneeling here, |
| Aye, and of Emily, my sister dear. |
| And you shall presently consent to swear |
| That nevermore will you my power dare, |
| 965 | Nor wage war on me, either night or day, |
| But will be friends to me in all you may; |
| I do forgive this trespass, full and fair." |
| And then they swore what he demanded there, |
| And, of his might, they of his mercy prayed, |
| 970 | And he extended grace, and thus he said: |
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