Volume 12 — THE FLOUR AND THE LEFE.

When that Phœbus his chair of gold so hie Had whirlid up the sterrie sky aloft, And in the Bole was entrid certainly, When shouris sote of rain descendid soft, Causing the ground felè timis and oft Up for to give many an wholesome air, And every plain was yclothid faire: With newè grene, and makith smalè flours To springin here and there in field and mede, So very gode and wholesome be the shours, That they renewn that was old and dede In winter time, and out of every sede Springith the herbè, so that every wight Of this seson wexith richt glade and licht. And I so gladè of the seson swete, Was happid thus; upon a certain night As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete Was unto me, but why that I ne might Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight [As I suppose] had more of hertis ese Than I, for I n'ad sicknesse nor disese: Wherefore I mervaile gretly of my self That I so long withoutin slepè lay, And up I rose thre houris aftir twelfe, About the springing of the gladsome day, And on I put my gear and mine aray, And to a plesaunt grove I gan to pas Long or the bright sonne uprisin was; In which were okis grete, streight as a line, Undir the which the grass so freshe of hewe Was newly sprong, and an eight fote or nine Every tre well fro his fellow grew, With braunchis brode laden with levis new, That sprongin out agen the sonne shene: Some very rede, and some a glad light grene: Which [as me thought] was a right plesaunt sight; And eke the birdis songis for to here Would have rejoisid any erthly wight, And I, that couth not yet in no manere Herein the nightingale of all the yere, Full busily herk'nid with hert and ere If I her voice perceve could any where: And at the last a path of litil brede I found, that gretly had not usid be, For it forgrowin was with grass and wede, That well unnethis a wight might it se; Thought I, this path some whider doth parde; And so I followid till it me brought To a right plesant herbir wel ywrought, Which that benchid was, and with turfis new Freshly turvid, whereof the grene grass So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hewe, That most like to grene woll wot I it was; The hegge also, that yedin in compas, And closid in allè the grene herbere, With sycamor was set and eglatere. Within, in fere so well and cunningly, That every braunch and lefe grew by mesure Plain as a bord, of an height by and by, I se nevir a thing [I you ensure] So well ydone, for he that toke the cure It for to make [I trowe] did all his peine To mak it pas al tho that men have seine. And shapin was this herber rofe and al As is a pretty parlour, and also The hegge as thick as is a castil wall, That who that list without to stond or go, Thogh he wold al day prayin to and fro, He should not se if there were any wight Within or no, but one within well might— Perceve all tho that ydin there without Into the field, that was on every side Coverd with corn and grass, that out of doubt Tho one would sekin all the worlde wide So rich a felde could not be espyde Upon no cost, as of the quantity, For of allè gode thing there was plenty. And I, that al these plesaunt sightis se, Thought suddainly I felt so swete an air Of the eglaterè, that certainly There is no hert [I deme] in such dispair, Ne yet with thoughtis froward and contraire So overlaid, but it should sone have bote If it had onis felt this savour sote. And as I stode and cast aside mine eye I was ware of the fairist medler tre That evir yet in all my life I se, As full of blossomis as it might be, Therein a goldfinch leping pretily From bough to bough, and as him list he ete Here and there of buddis and flouris swete. And to the herbir side was adjoyning This fairist tre of which I have you told, And at the last the bird began to sing [Whan he had etin what he etin would] So passing swetely that by many fold It was more plesaunt than I couth devise; And whan his song was endid in this wise, The nightingale with so mery a note Answerid him, that alle the wode yrong So sodainly, that as it were a sote I stode astonied, and was with the song Thorow ravishid, that till late and long I ne wist in what place I was ne where, Ayen methought she song e'en by mine ere: Wherefore I waited about busily On every side if I her might se, And at the last I gan full well espie Where she sate in a fresh grene laury tre, On the further side evin right by me, That gave so passing a delicious smell, According to the eglantere full well; Whereof I had so inly grete plesure, As methought I surely ravished was Into Paradise, wherein my desire Was for to be, and no ferthir to pas As for that day, and on the sotè grass I sat me down, for as for mine entent The birdis song was more convenient, And more plesaunt to me by many fold Than mete or drink, or any othir thing, Thereto the herbir was so fresh and cold, The wholsome savours eke so comforting, That [as I demid] sith the beginning Of the worldè was nevir seen er than So plesaunt a ground of none erthly man. And as I sat the birdis herkening thus, Methought that I herd voicis suddainly, The most swetist and most delicious That evir any wight I trow trewly Herdin in hir life, for the armony And swete accord was in so gode musike That the voicis to angels most were like. At the last out of a grove evin by [That was right godely and plesaunt to sight] I se where there came singing lustily A world of ladies, but to tell aright Ther beauty grete lyith not in my might, Ne ther array; nevirthèless I shall Tell you a pert, tho' I speke not of all: The surcots white of velvet well fitting They werin clad, and the semis eche one, As it werin a mannir garnishing, Was set with emeraudis one and one By and by, but many a richè stone Was set on the purfilis out of dout Of collours, sleves, and trainis, round about; As of grete perlis round and orient, And diamondis fine and rubys red, And many othir stone of which I went The namis now; and everich on her hede A rich fret of gold, which withoutin drede Was full of statèly rich stonys set, And evrey lady had a chapelet, On ther hedis of braunchis fresh and grene, So wele ywrought, and so marvelously, That it was a right noble sight to sene, Some of laurir, and some full plesauntly Had chapèlets of wodebind, and sadly Some of agnus castus werin also, Chaplets fresh; but there were many of tho, That dauncid and eke song full sobirly, But all they yede in maner of compace; But one there yede in mid the company Sole by herself; but all follow'd the pace That she keept, whose hevinly figured face So pleasaunt was, and her wele shape person, That of beauty she past them everichone, And more richly beseen by manyfold She was also in every manir thing; Upon her hede full plesaunt to behold A coron of gold rich for any king, A braunch of agnus castus eke bering In her hand, and to my sight trewily She lady was of all the compagnie; And she began a roundell lustily That Sus le foyle de vert moy men call Sine & mon joly cœur est endormy, And than the company answerid all, With voicis swete entunid and so small, That methought it the swetest melody That evir I herd in my lyf sothly. And thus they all came dauncing and singing Into the middis of the mede echone, Before the herbir where I was sitting, And God wot I thought I was well bigone, For than I might avise them one by one Who fairist was, who best could dance or sing, Or who most womanly was in all thing. They had not dauncid but a little throw When that I herd not fer of sodainly So grete a noise of thundering trumpis blow As though it should have departid the skie, And aftir that within a while I sie From the same grove where the ladies came out Of men of armis coming such a rout, As all men on erth had ben assemblid, On that place well horsid for the nonis, Stering so fast that all the erth tremblid; But for to speke of richis and stonis, And men and horse, I trow the large wonis Of Pretir John, ne all his tresory, Might not unneth have bought the tenth party. Of their array whoso list to here more, I shall reherse so as I can a lite, Out of the grove that I speke of before I se come first, all in their clokis white, A company that wore for ther delite Chapèlets fresh of okis serial But newly sprong, and trumpets were they all; On every trump hanging a brode bannere Of fine tartarium, full richly bete, Every trumpet his lord'is armis bere About ther nekkis, with grete perlis sete, Collaris brode, for cost they wou'd not lete, As it would seem, for ther scochons echone Were set about with many a precious stone; Ther horsis harneis was all white also; And aftir them next in one company Camin kingis at armis and no mo, In clokis of white cloth with gold richly, Chaplets of grene on ther heds on hye, The crownis that they on ther scotchons bere Were set with perl, and ruby, and saphere, And eke grete diamondis many one; But all ther horsis harneis and other gere Was in a sute according everichone, As ye have herd the foresaid trumpets were, And by seming they were nothing to lere, And ther guiding they did so manirly; And aftir them came a gret company Of heraudeis and pursevauntis eke, Arrayid in clothis of white velvet, And hardily they were nothing to seke How they on them shouldin the harneis set, And every man had on a chapèlet, Scotchonis and eke horse harneis in dede They had in sute of them that 'fore them yede. Next after these appere in armour bright, All save ther hedis, semely knightis nine, And every clasp and nail, as to my sight, Of ther harneis were of red gold so fine, With cloth of gold, and furrid with ermine, Were the tappouris of their stedis strong, Both wide and large, that to the ground did hong; And every boss of bridle and paitrel That they had on was worth, as I would wene, A thousand pound; and on ther hedis well Dressid were crounis of the laurir grene, The best ymade that evir I had sene; And every knight had aftir him riding Thre henchmen, still upon him awaiting; Of which every (first) on a short trunchon His lord'is helmet bore so richly dight That the worst of them was worth the ransoume Of any king; the second a shield bright Bare at his back; the thred barin upright A mighty spere, full sharp yground and kene, And every child ware of levis grene A fresh chap'let upon his hairis bright; And clokis white of fine velvet they were; Ther stedis trappid and arayid right, Without difference as ther lordis were; And aftir them on many a fresh coursere There came of armid knightis such a rout That they besprad the large field about; And all they werin, aftir ther degrees, Chappèlets new, or made of laurir grene, Or some of oke, or some of othir trees, Some in ther hondis barin boughis shene, Some of laurir, and some of okis bene, Some of hawthorne, and some of the wodebind, And many mo which I have not in mind. And so they came ther horse freshly stirring With bloudy sownis of ther trompis loud; There se I many an uncouth disguising In the array of thilkè knightis proud; And at the last as evenly as they coud They toke ther place in middis of the mede, And every knight turnid his horsis hede To his felow, and lightly laid a spere Into the rest, and so justis began On every part aboutin here and there; Some brake his spere, some threw down horse and man, About the felde astray the stedis ran; And to behold their rule and govirnance I you ensure it was a grete plesaunce. And so the justis last an hour and more But tho that crownid were in laurir grene Did win the prise; their dintis were so sore That there was none agenst them might sustene, And the justing allè was left off clene; And fro ther horse the nine alight anon, And so did all the remnaunt everichone; And forth they yede togidir twain and twain, That to behold it was a worthy sight, Toward the ladies on the grenè plain, That song and dauncid, as I said now right; The ladies as sone as they godely might They brakin off both the song and the dance And yede to mete them with full glad semblaunce: And every lady toke full womanly By the hond a knight, and so forth they yede Unto a faire laurir that stode fast by, With levis laid, the boughis of grete brede, And to my dome ther nevir was indede A man that had sene half so faire a tre, For undirneth it there might well have be An hundrid persons at ther own plesaunce Shadowid fro the hete of Phœbus bright, So that they shouldin have felt no grevance Neithir for rain, ne haile, that them hurt might; The savour eke rejoice would any wight That hed be sick or melancholious, It was so very gode and vertuous. And with grete rev'rence they enclinid low Unto the tre so sote and fair of hew, And aftir that within a litil throw They all began to sing and daunce of new; Some song of love, some plaining of untrew, Environing the tre that stode upright, And evir yede a lady and a knight. And at the last I cast mine eie aside, And was ware of a lusty company That came roming out of the feldè wide, And hond in hond a knight and a lady, The ladies all in surcotes, that richly Purfilid were with many a rich stone, And every knight of grene ware mantlis on, Embroulid wele, so as the surcots were, And everich had a chapelet on her hed, [Which did right wele upon the shining here] Makid of godely flouris white and red, The knightis eke that they in hondè led In sute of them ware chaplets everichone, And before them went minstrels many one; As harpis, pipis, lutis, and sautry, Allè in grene, and on ther hedis bare Of diverse flouris made ful craftily, Al in a sute, godely chaplets they ware, And so dauncing into the mede they fare, In mid the which they found a tuft that was Al ovirsprad with flouris in compas: Whereto they enclined evèrichone With grete revèrence, and that full humbly; And at the last there tho began anon A lady for to sing right womanly A bargaret in praising the daisie, For (as methought) among her notis swete She said Si douce est la Margarete! Then they allè answerid her in fere So passingly well and so plesauntly, That it was a most blisfull noise to here; But I 'not how it happid, sodainly As about none the sonne so fervently Waxe hotè that the pretty tendir floures Had lost the beauty of their fresh collours. For shronke with hete the ladies eke to brent, That they ne wist where they them might bestow, The knightis swelt, for lack of shade nie shent, And aftir that within a litil throw The wind began so sturdily to blow That down goth all the flowris everichone, So that in all the mede there laft not one, Save such as succoured were among the leves Fro every storme that mightè them assaile, Growing undir the heggis and thick greves; And aftir that there came a storme of haile And rain in fere, so that withoutin faile The ladies ne the knightis n'ade o' thred Dry on them, so drooping wet was ther wede. And when the storme was clene passid away Tho in the white, that stode undir the tre, They felt nothing of all the grete affray That they in grene without had in ybe; To them they yede for routh and for pite, Them to comfort aftir their grete disese, So fain they were the helplesse for to ese. Than I was ware how one of them in grene Had on a coron rich and well-fitting, Wherefore I demid well she was a quene, And tho in grene on her were awaiting; The ladies then in white that were coming Towardis them, and the knightis in fere, Began to comfort them and make them chere. The quene in white, that was of grete beauty, Toke by the honde the quene that was in grene, And seidè, Sustir, I have grete pity Of your annoy and of your troublous tene Wherein ye and your company have bene So long, alas! and if that if you plese To go with me I shall do you the ese In al the plesure that I can or may; Whereof that othir, humbly as she might, Thankid her, for in right evil array She was with storme and hete I you behight; And evèry lady then anon right That were in white one of them toke in grene By the hond, which when the knightis had sene In like manir eche of them toke a knight Clad in the grene, and forth with them they fare To an heggè, where that they anon right To makin these justis they would not spare Boughis to hew down, and eke trees to square, Wherewith they made them stately firis grete To dry ther clothis, that were wringing wete: And aftir that of herbis that there grew They made for blistirs of the sonne brenning Ointmentis very gode, wholsome and new, Where that they yede the sick fast anointing; And after that they yede about gadring Plesant saladis, which they made them ete For to refreshe ther grete unkindly hete. The lady of the Lefè then gan to pray Her of the Floare [for so to my seming They should be callid as by ther array] To soupe with her, and eke for any thing That she should with her all her pepill bringe, And she ayen in right godely manere Thankith her fast of her most frendly chere, Saying plainèly that she would obay With all her hert all her commandèment; And then anon without lengir delay The lady of the Lefe hath one ysent To bring a palfray aftir her intent, Arrayid wele in fair harneis of gold, For nothing lackid that to him long shold. And aftir that to all her company She made to purvey horse and every thing That they nedid, and then full hastily Even by the herbir where I was sitting They passid all, so merrily singing That it would have comfortid any wight: But then I se a passing wondir sight, For then the nightingale, that all the day Had in the laurir sete, and did her might The whole service to sing longing to May, All sodainly began to take her flight, And to the lady of the Lefe forthright She flew, and set her on her hand softly, Which was a thing I mervailed at gretly. The goldfinch eke, that fro the medlar tre Was fled for hete unto the bushis cold, Unto the lady of the Flowre gan fle, And on her hond he set him as he wold, And plesauntly his wingis gan to fold, And for to sing they peine them both as sore As they had do of all the day before. And so these ladies rode forth a grete pace, And all the rout of knightis eke in fere; And I that had sene all this wondir case Thought that I would assay in some manere To know fully the trouth of this mattere, And what they were that rode so plesauntly: And when they were the herbir passid by I drest me forth, and happid mete anon A right fair lady, I do you ensure, And she came riding by her self alone, Allè in white, with semblaunce full demure; I her salued, bad her gode avinture Mote her befall, as I coud most humbly, And she answered, My doughtir, gramercy! Madame, quod I, if that I durst enquere Of you, I wold fain of that company Wit what they be that passed by this herbere. And she ayen answerid right frendly, My doughtir, all tho that passid hereby In white clothing be servants everichone Unto the Lefe, and I my self am one. See ye not her that crownid is (quod she) Allè in white? Madame, then quod I, Yes. That is Dian, goddess of Chastity, And for bicause that she a maidin is Into her hond the brance she berith this That agnus castus men call propirly; And all the ladies in her company Which ye se of that herbè chaplets were Be such as han alwey kept maidinhede, And all they that of laurir chaplets bere, Be such as hardy were in manly dede Victorious, name which nevir may be dede, And all they were so worthy of their honde In their time that no one might them withstonde; And tho that were chapèlets on ther hede Of fresh wodebind be such as nevir were To Love untrue in word, in thought, ne dede, But ay stedfast, ne for plesance ne fere, Tho that they shulde ther hertis all to tere, Woud never flit, but evir were stedfast Till that ther livis there assundir brast. Now, fair Madame! quod I, yet would I pray Your ladiship [if that it mightin be] That I might knowe by some manir of wey, Sithin that it hath likid your beaute The trouth of these ladies for to tell me, What that these knightis be in rich armour, And what tho be in grene and were the Flour, And why that some did rev'rence to the tre, And some unto the plot of flouris fair? With right gode wil, my doughtir fair! quod she, Sith your desire is gode and debonaire: Tho nine crounid be very exemplaire Of all honour longing to chivalry, And those certain be clept, The Nine Worthy, Which that ye may se riding all before, That in ther time did many a noble dede, And for ther worthiness full oft have bore The crown of laurir levis on ther hede, As ye may in your oldè bokis rede, And how that he that was a conqueror Had by laurir alwey his most honour: And tho that barin bowes in ther hond Of the precious laurir so notable, Be such as were [I woll ye undirstend] Most noble Knightis of The Round Table, And eke the Douseperis honourable, Which they bere in the sign of victory, As witness of ther dedis mightily: Eke ther be Knightis old of the Gartir, That in ther timis did right worthily, And the honour they did to the laurir Is for by it they have ther laud wholly, Ther triumph eke and martial glory, Which unto them is more perfite riches Than any wight imagin can or gesse; For one Lefe givin of that noble tre To any wight that hath done worthily [An it be done so as it ought to be] Is more honour than any thing erthly, Witness of Rome, that foundir was truly Of all knighthode and dedis marvelous, Record I take of Titus Livius. And as for her that crounid is in grene, It is Flora, of these flouris goddesse, And all that here on her awaiting bene It are such folk that lovid idlenesse, And not delite in no kind besinesse But for to hunt, and hawke, and pley in medes, And many othir such like idle dedes. And for the grete delite and the plesaunce They have to the Flour, and so reverently They unto it doin such obeisaunce, As ye may se. Now, fair Madame! quod I, [If I durst ask] what is the cause and why That knightis have the ensign of honour Rathir by the Lefè than by the Flour? Sothly, doughtir, quod she, this is the truth, For knightes evir should be persevering To seke honour without feintise or slouth, Fro wele to bettir in all manir thing, In sign of which with levis ay lasting They be rewardid aftir ther degre. Whose lusty grene may not appairid be, But ay keping ther beauty fresh and grene, For ther n'is no storme that may them deface, Ne hail nor snowe, ne wind nor frostis kene, Wherefore they have this propirty and grace; And for the Flour within a litil space Wollin be lost, so simple of nature They be, that they no grevaunce may endure: And every storme woll blowe them sone away, Ne they lastè not but for a seson, That is the cause [the very trouth to say] That they may not by no way of reson Be put to no such occupacion. Madame, quod I, with all mine whole servise I thank you now in my most humble wise; For now I am ascertain'd thoroughly Of every thing I desirid to knowe. I am right glad that I have said, sothly, Ought to your plesure, (if ye will me trow.) Quod she ayen. But to whom do ye owe Your service, and which wollin ye honour [Pray tell me] this year, the Lefe or the Flour? Madam, quod I, although I lest worthy, Unto the Lefe I ow mine observaunce. That is, quod she, right wel done certainly, And I pray God to honour you advaunce, And kepe you fro the wickid remembraunce Of Melèbouch and all his cruiltie, And all that gode and well-condition'd be; For here I may no lengir now abide, But I must follow the grete company That ye may se yondir before you ride. And forthwith, as I couth most humily I toke my leve of her, and she gan hie Aftir them as fast as evir she might, And I drow homeward, for it was nigh night. And put all that I had sene in writing, Undir support of them that lust it rede. O little boke! thou art so unconning, How darst thou put thy self in prees for drede? It is wondir that thou wexist not rede, Sith that thou wost full lite who shall behold Thy rude langage full boystously unfold.