The Canterbury Tales [391]
newe summer's sake, Upon the branches full of blossoms soft, In their delight they turned them full oft, And sunge, "Blessed be Saint Valentine! <7> For on his day I chose you to be mine, Withoute repenting, my hearte sweet." And therewithal their heals began to meet, Yielding honour, and humble obeisances, To love, and did their other observances That longen unto Love and to Nature; Construe that as you list, I *do no cure.* *care nothing* And those that hadde *done unkindeness,* *committed offence As doth the tidife, <8> for newfangleness, against natural laws* Besoughte mercy for their trespassing And humblely sange their repenting, And swore upon the blossoms to be true; So that their mates would upon them rue,* *take pity And at the laste made their accord.* *reconciliation All* found they Danger** for a time a lord, *although **disdain Yet Pity, through her stronge gentle might, Forgave, and made mercy pass aright Through Innocence, and ruled Courtesy. But I ne call not innocence folly Nor false pity, for virtue is the mean, As Ethic <9> saith, in such manner I mean. And thus these fowles, void of all malice, Accorded unto Love, and lefte vice Of hate, and sangen all of one accord, "Welcome, Summer, our governor and lord!" And Zephyrus and Flora gentilly Gave to the flowers, soft and tenderly, Their sweete breath, and made them for to spread, As god and goddess of the flow'ry mead; In which me thought I mighte, day by day, Dwellen alway, the jolly month of May, Withoute sleep, withoute meat or drink. Adown full softly I began to sink, And, leaning on mine elbow and my side The longe day I shope* to abide, *resolved, prepared For nothing elles, and I shall not lie But for to look upon the daisy; That men by reason well it calle may The Daye's-eye, or else the Eye of Day, The empress and the flow'r of flowers all I pray to God that faire may she fall! And all that love flowers, for her sake: But, nathelesse, *ween not that I make* *do not fancy that I In praising of the Flow'r against the Leaf, write this poem* No more than of the corn against the sheaf; For as to me is lever none nor lother, I n'am withholden yet with neither n'other.<10> *Nor I n'ot* who serves Leaf, nor who the Flow'r; *nor do I know* Well *brooke they* their service or labour! *may they profit by* For this thing is all of another tun, <11> Of old story, ere such thing was begun.
When that the sun out of the south gan west, And that this flow'r gan close, and go to rest, For darkness of the night, the which she dread;* *dreaded Home to my house full swiftly I me sped, To go to rest, and early for to rise, To see this flower spread, as I devise.* *describe And in a little arbour that I have, That benched was of turfes fresh y-grave,* <12> *cut out I bade men shoulde me my couche make; For dainty* of the newe summer's sake, *pleasure I bade them strowe flowers on my bed. When I was laid, and had mine eyen hid, I fell asleep; within an hour or two, Me mette* how I lay in the meadow tho,** *dreamed **then To see this flow'r that I love so and dread. And from afar came walking in the mead The God of Love, and in his hand a queen; And she was clad in royal habit green; A fret* of gold she hadde next her hair, *band And upon that a white corown she bare, With flowrons* small, and, as I shall not lie, *florets <13> For all the world right as a daisy Y-crowned is, with white leaves lite,* *small So were the flowrons of her crowne white. For of one pearle, fine, oriential, Her white crowne was y-maked all, For which the white crown above the green Made her like a daisy for to see'n,* *look upon Consider'd eke her fret of gold above. Y-clothed was this mighty God of Love In silk embroider'd, full of greene greves,*
When that the sun out of the south gan west, And that this flow'r gan close, and go to rest, For darkness of the night, the which she dread;* *dreaded Home to my house full swiftly I me sped, To go to rest, and early for to rise, To see this flower spread, as I devise.* *describe And in a little arbour that I have, That benched was of turfes fresh y-grave,* <12> *cut out I bade men shoulde me my couche make; For dainty* of the newe summer's sake, *pleasure I bade them strowe flowers on my bed. When I was laid, and had mine eyen hid, I fell asleep; within an hour or two, Me mette* how I lay in the meadow tho,** *dreamed **then To see this flow'r that I love so and dread. And from afar came walking in the mead The God of Love, and in his hand a queen; And she was clad in royal habit green; A fret* of gold she hadde next her hair, *band And upon that a white corown she bare, With flowrons* small, and, as I shall not lie, *florets <13> For all the world right as a daisy Y-crowned is, with white leaves lite,* *small So were the flowrons of her crowne white. For of one pearle, fine, oriential, Her white crowne was y-maked all, For which the white crown above the green Made her like a daisy for to see'n,* *look upon Consider'd eke her fret of gold above. Y-clothed was this mighty God of Love In silk embroider'd, full of greene greves,*