A THE PROLOGE OF NINE GOODE WYMMEN. THOUSANDE tymes I have herde telle, That there ys joy in hevene, and peyne in helle, And I acorde wel that it ys so; But, natheles, yet wot I wel also, That ther nis noon dwellyng in this countree, Ne may of hit noon other weyes witen, But as he hath herd seyd, or founde it writen; . But God forbede but men shulde leve 1 In the margin of Fairfax MS. 16 is written in red letters the following gloss:- Bernardus monachus non vidit omnia.' This appears to have been a proverbial expression of equivocal import, meaning either that however wise St. Bernard may have been, there were yet some things which had escaped him; or, with a sly inuendo, that St. Bernard asserted more than he ever saw, and that his statements are, therefore, to be taken cum grano salis. St. Bernard is considered the last of the Fathers. He was born in 1091, at the Castle of Fontaine, within half a league of Dijon, and died on the 20th of August, 1153. His father was of the family of the Counts of Chatillon; his mother was Elizabeth, daughter of the Count of Montbard. At the age of 22 he resolved to embrace the monastic profession, and by his extraordinary powers of persuasion induced his uncle, and other members of his family who came to dissuade him from his purpose, to join with him in founding a more than usually severe order of monachism. He and his infant community, by the labour of their own hands, changed the rugged valley of Absinthus into an agricultural paradise, and raised, in the midst of the wilderness, the first few sheds, which afterwards expanded into the Abbey of Clairvaulx. Here his father followed him to die, in 1117. His works are chiefly sermons explanatory of scripture. But, though he was well versed in the Latin classics, his style is entirely spoiled by being interwoven with the Hebraisms of the Scriptural language. And to the doctrine of these olde wyse, Of love, of hate, and other sondry thynges, Ylorne were of remembraunce the key. And as for me, though that I konne but lyte, And to hem yeve I feyth and ful credence, Save, certeynly, whan that the monethe of May my devocion!1 Now have I thanne suche a condicion, That of al the floures in the mede, Thanne love I most these floures white and rede, As I seyde erst, whanne comen is the May, 1 What an interesting picture does the great poet here give of his tastes! His books occupy all his leisure, and for them he is content to forego the pleasures of society; but when May returns, and the landscape puts on its summer garb, his devotion to his books is superseded by his still more ardent devotion to Nature. 2 See vol. ii. p. 363, note 2. So glad am I, whan that I have presence 59 le As she that is of alle floures flour, But helpeth ye that han konnyng and myght, To forthren me somewhat in my labour, Of love, and eke in service of the flour, 1 This is an allusion to the allegory upon which is founded the poem of The Flower and the Leaf.-See vol. iv. p. 348. VOL. III. Y That in this derke world me wynt and ledyth, My worde, my werkes, ys knyt so in youre bonde As to myn erthely God, to yow I calle, I My besy gost, that trusteth alwey newe, To seen this flour so yong, so fressh of hewe, Of this flour, whan that yt shulde unclose 1 Here the poet addresses the lady directly in the second person. 2 The poet compares his heart to a harp, from which his mistress evokes such music as she pleases, whether joyful or sad. This idea has been often imitated by modern poets. 3 Agenores daughter was Europa, and the beast which led her away, that is, took her captive, was the bull into whose shape Jupiter transformed himself. By this periphrasis is meant that the sun had now entered Taurus, that is, that it was May. And doune on knees anoon ryght I me sette, That was with floures swote embrouded al, For yt surmounteth pleynly alle odoures, Forgeten had the erthe his pore estate 1 1 The picture drawn in this passage belongs to mediæval times, and foreign countries. It can scarcely be said to have a counterpart in modern English life. In the classical and middle ages small birds were a common article of food, as they are on the Continent at the present time, and the season for catching them with a panter, or bagnet, was winter, when the scarcity of food made them tame. The poet here represents their songs in the spring, as the expression of their exultation at having baffled the stratagems, quaintly termed sophistries, by which the fowler had endeavoured to allure them to their destruction. |