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THE LOVER'S MONOLOGUE.
No. 35.
Love rules everything that is: Love doth change hearts in a kiss: Love seeks devious ways of bliss: Love than honey sweeter, Love than gall more bitter.
Blind Love hath no modesties.
Love is lukewarm, fiery, cold; Love is timid, overbold; Loyal, treacherous, manifold.
Present time is fit for play: Let Love find his mate to-day: Hark, the birds, how sweet their lay!
Love rules young men wholly; Love lures maidens solely.
Woe to old folk! sad are they.
Sweetest woman ever seen, Fairest, dearest, is my queen; And alas! my chiefest teen.
Let an old man, chill and drear, Never come thy bosom near; Oft he sleeps with sorry cheer, Too cold to delight thee: Naught could less invite thee.
Youth with youth must mate, my dear.
Blest the union I desire; Naught I know and naught require, Better than to be thy squire.
Love flies all the world around: Love in wanton wiles is wound: Therefore youth and maid are bound In Love's fetters duly.
She is joyless truly Who no lover yet hath found!
All the night in grief and smart She must languish, wear her heart; Bitter is that woman's part.
Love is simple, Love is sly; Love is pale, of ruddy dye: Love is all things, low and high: Love is serviceable, Constant and unstable: Love obeys Art's empery.
In this closed room Love takes flight, In the silence of the night, Love made captive, conquered quite.
The next is singularly, quaintly musical in the original, but for various reasons I have not been able to adhere exactly to its form. I imagine that it is the work of the same poet who composed the longer piece which I shall give immediately after. Both are addressed to Caecilia; I have used the name Phyllis in my version.
THE INVITATION TO LOVE.
No. 36.
List, my girl, with words I woo; Lay not wanton hands on you: Sit before you, in your face Gazing, ah! and seeking grace: Fix mine eyes, nor let them rove From the mark where shafts of love Their flight wing.
Try, my girl, O try what bliss Young men render when they kiss!
Youth is alway st.u.r.dy, straight; Old age totters in its gait.
These delights of love we bring Have the suppleness of spring, Softness, sweetness, wantoning; Clasp, my Phyllis, in their ring Sweeter sweets than poets sing, Anything and everything!
After daytime's heat from heaven Dews on thirsty fields are given; After verdant leaf and stem Shoots the white flower's diadem; After the white flower's bloom To the night their faint perfume Lilies fling.
Try, my girl, etc., _da capo_.
The poem, _Ludo c.u.m Caecilia_, which comes next in order, is one of the most perfect specimens of Goliardic writing. To render its fluent, languid, and yet airy grace, in any language but the Latin, is, I think, impossible. Who could have imagined that the subtlety, the refinement, almost the perversity of feeling expressed in it, should have been proper to a student of the twelfth century? The poem is spoiled toward its close by astrological and grammatical conceits; and the text is corrupt. That part I have omitted, together with some stanzas which offend a modern taste.
PHYLLIS.
No. 37.
Think no evil, have no fear, If I play with Phyllis; I am but the guardian dear Of her girlhood's lilies, Lest too soon her bloom should swoon Like spring's daffodillies.
All I care for is to play, Gaze upon my treasure, Now and then to touch her hand, Kiss in modest measure; But the fifth act of love's game, Dream not of that pleasure!
For to touch the bloom of youth Spoils its frail complexion; Let the young grape gently grow Till it reach perfection; Hope within my heart doth glow Of the girl's affection.
Sweet above all sweets that are 'Tis to play with Phyllis; For her thoughts are white as snow, In her heart no ill is; And the kisses that she gives Sweeter are than lilies.
Love leads after him the G.o.ds Bound in pliant traces; Harsh and stubborn hearts he bends, Breaks with blows of maces; Nay, the unicorn is tamed By a girl's embraces.
Love leads after him the G.o.ds, Jupiter with Juno; To his waxen measure treads Masterful Neptune O!
Pluto stern to souls below Melts to this one tune O!
Whatsoe'er the rest may do, Let us then be playing: Take the pastime that is due While we're yet a-Maying; I am young and young are you; 'Tis the time for playing.
Up to this time, the happiness of love returned and satisfied has been portrayed. The following lyric exhibits a lover pining at a distance, soothing his soul with song, and indulging in visions of happiness beyond his grasp--e?d????? ????e?? ??fa ???a???e???, as Meleager phrased it on a similar occasion.
LOVE LONGINGS.
No. 38.
With song I seek my fate to cheer, As doth the swan when death draws near; Youth's roses from my cheeks retire, My heart is worn with fond desire.
Since care and woe increase and grow, while light burns low, Poor wretch I die!
Heigho! I die, poor wretch I die!
Constrained to love, unloved; such luck have I!
If she could love me whom I love, I would not then exchange with Jove: Ah! might I clasp her once, and drain Her lips as thirsty flowers drink rain!
With death to meet, his welcome greet, from life retreat, I were full fain!
Heigho! full fain, I were full fain, Could I such joy, such wealth of pleasure gain!
When I bethought me of her breast, Those hills of snow my fancy pressed; Longing to touch them with my hand, Love's laws I then did understand.
Rose of the south, blooms on her mouth; I felt love's drouth That mouth to kiss!
Heigho! to kiss, that mouth to kiss!
Lost in day-dreams and vain desires of bliss.
The next is the indignant repudiation by a lover of the calumny that he has proved unfaithful to his mistress. The strongly marked double rhymes of the original add peculiar vehemence to his protestations; while the abundance of cheap mythological allusions is emphatically Goliardic.
THE LOVER'S VOW.
No. 39.
