But now I woll you tell a wonder thing,
As long as lay in that swouning,
Me thought I wist what the birds ment,
And what they said, and what was hir entent,
And of hir speech I had good knowing.

There heard I the nightingale say,
"Now good cuckow go somewhere away,
And let vs that can singen dwellen here,
For euery wight escheueth thee to here,
Thy songs be so elenge in good fay."

"What," quod she, "what may thee aylen now,
It thinketh me, I sing as well as thou,
For my song is both true and plaine,
And though I cannot crakell so in vaine,
As thou dost in thy throte, I wot neuer how.

"And euery wight may vnderstand mee,
But nightingale so may they not done thee,
For thou hast many a nice queint cry,
I haue thee heard saine, ocy, ocy,
How might I know what that should be?"

"Ah foole," quod she, "wost thou not what it is, Whan that I say, ocy, ocy, ywis,

Than meane I that I would wonder faine,
That all they were shamefully yslaine,
That meanen ought againe loue amis.

"And also I would that all tho were dede,
That thinke not in loue hir life to lede,
For who so that wol not the god of loue serue,
I dare well say he is worthy to sterue,
And for that skill, ocy, ocy, I grede."

"Eye," quod the cuckow, "this is a queint law,
That euery wight shall loue or be to draw,
But I forsake all such companie,
For mine entent is not for to die,

Ne neuer while I liue on Loues yoke to draw.

"For louers ben the folke that ben on liue,
That most disease haue, and most vnthriue,
And most endure sorrow, wo, and care,
And least feelen of welfare,

What nedeth it ayenst trouth to striue."

"What," quod she, "thou art out of thy mind,
How might thou in thy churlenesse find
To speake of Loues seruaunts in this wise,
For in this world is none so good seruise
To euery wight that gentle is of kind.

"For thereof truly commeth all goodnesse,
All honour and all gentlenesse,
Worship, ease, and all hertes lust,
Parfite joy, and full assured trust,
Iolitie, pleasaunce, and freshnesse,
"Lowlyhead, largesse, and curtesie,
Semely head, and true companie,
Drede of shame for to done amis:
For he that truly Loues seruaunt is,
Were lother be shamed than to die.

"And that this is soth that I sey,
In that beleeue I will liue and dey,
And cuckow so I rede that thou do ywis: "
"Than," quod he, "let me neuer haue blisse,
If euer I vnto that counsaile obey.

"Nightingale thou speakest wonder faire,
But for all that is the sooth contraire,
For loue is in yong folke but rage,
And in old folke a great dotage,

Who most it vseth, most shall enpaire.

"For thereof cometh disease and heuinesse,
So sorow and care, and many a great sicknesse,
Despite, debate, anger, and enuie,
Deprauing, shame, vntrust, and jelousie,
Pride, mischeefe, pouerty, and woodnesse :

"Louing is an office of despaire,

And one thing is therein that is not faire,
For who that getteth of loue a little blisse,
But if he be alway therewith ywis,
He may full soone of age haue his haire.

"And nightingale therefore hold thee ny, For leue me well, for all thy queint cry, If thou be ferre or long fro thy make, Thou shalt be as other that been forsake, And than thou shalt hoten as doe I."

"Fie," quod she, "on thy name and on thee,
The god of loue ne let thee neuer ythee,
For thou art worse a thousand fold than wood,
For many a one is full worthy and full good,
That had be naught ne had loue ybee.

"For euermore Loue his seruants amendeth,
And from all euill taches hem defendeth,
And maketh hem to brenne right in a fire,
In trouth and in worshipfull desire,

And whan him liketh, joy inough hem sendeth.”

"Thou nightingale," he said, "be still,
For Loue hath no reason, but it is will,
For oft time vntrue folke he easeth,
And true folke so biterly he displeaseth,
That for default of courage he let hem spill."

Than tooke I of the nightingale keepe,
How she cast a sigh out of her deepe,
And said, "Alas that euer I was bore,
I can for tene not say one word more,"
And right with that word she brast out to weepe.

"Alas," quod she, " my herte woll to breake,
To hearen thus this leaud bird speake
Of Loue, and of his worshipfull seruise,
Now god of loue thou help me in some wise,
That I may on this cuckow been awreake."

Me thought than he stert vp anone,
And glad was I that he was agone,
And euermore the cuckow as he flay,
Said, "Farewell, farewell popingay,"
As though he had scorned me alone.

And than came the nightingale to mee,
And said, "Friend forsooth I thanke thee,
That thou hast liked me to rescow,
And one auow to loue make I now,
That all this May I woll thy singer be."

I thanked her, and was right well apaied:
"Ye," quod she," and be thou not dismaied,
Tho thou haue herd the cuckow erst than me,
For if I liue, it shall amended be
The next May, if I be not affraied.

"And one thing I woll rede thee also,

Ne leue thou not the cuckow, ne his loues so, For all that he hath said is strong leasing:"

Nay," quod I, "thereto shall nothing me bring, For loue and it hath doe me much wo.

"Ye, vse," quod she, "this medicine
Euery day this May or thou dine,
Go looke vpon the fresh daisie,

And though thou be for wo in point to die,
That shall full greatly lessen thee of thy pine.

"And looke alway that thou be good and trew,
And I woll sing one of the songs new
For loue of thee, as loud as I may crie:'
And than she began this song full hie,
"I shrew all hem that been of loue vntrue."

And whan she had song it to the end,

Now farewell," quod she, " for I mote wend,
And god of loue, that can right well, and may,
As much joy send thee this day,
As any yet louer he euer send."

Thus taketh the nightingale her leaue of me,
I pray to God alway with her be,
And joy of loue he send her euermore,
And shilde us fro the cuckow and his lore,
For there is not so false a bird as he.

Forth she flew the gentle nightingale
To all the birds that were in that dale,
And gate hem all into a place in fere,
And besoughten hem that they would here
Her disease, and thus began her tale.

"The cuckow, well it is not for to hide,
How the cuckow and I fast haue chide,
Euer sithen it was day light,

I pray you all that ye do me right
On that foule false vnkind bridde."

Than spake o bird for all, by one assent,
"This matter asketh good auisement,
For we ben birdes here in fere,
And sooth it is, the cuckow is not here,
And therefore we woll haue a parliment.

"And thereat shall the egle be our lord,
And other peres that been of record,
And the cuckow shall be after sent,
There shall be yeue the judgement,
Or els we shall finally make accord.

"And this shall be without nay
The morrow after saint Ualentines day,
Under a maple that is faire and grene,
Before the chamber window of the quene,
At Woodstocke vpon the grene lay.'

Full agreeable to all her abying,
For of all good she is the best liuing.

Alas that thou ne haddest worthinesse,
To shew to her some pleasaunt sentence,
Sith that she hath through her gentillesse
Accepted the seruant to her digne reuerence,
O, me repenteth that I ne had science
And leiser als, to make thee more flourishing,
For of all good she is the best liuing.

Beseech her meekely with all lowlinesse,
Though I be ferre from her in absence,
To think on my trouth to her and stedfastnesse,
And to abridge of my sorrowes the violence,
Which caused is, wherof knoweth your sapience,
She like among to notifie me her liking
For of all good she is the best liuing.

LANUOYE.

AURORE of gladnesse, and day of lustinesse, Lucern a night with heauenly influence Illumined, root of beauty and goodnesse, Suspires which I effunde in silence,

Of grace I beseech alledge let your writing, Now of all good, sith ye be best liuing.

EXPLICIT.

THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF.

A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove, seeth a great company of knights and ladies in a daunce upon the greene grass: the which being ended, they all kneel down, and do honour to the daisie, some to the flower, and some to the leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth by one of these ladies the meaning hereof, which is this They which honour the flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly pleasure. But they that honour the leaf, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter storms, are they which follow vertue and during qualities, without regard of worldly respects.

WHAN that Phebus his chaire of gold so hie
Had whirled vp the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Boole was entred certainely,
Whan shoures sweet of raine discended oft,
Causing the ground fele times and oft,
Up for to giue many an wholesome aire,
And euery plaine was clothed faire

With new green, and maketh small floures
To springen here and there in field and in mede,
So very good and wholesom be the shoures,
That it renueth that was old and dede,
In winter time and out of euery sede
Springeth the hearbe, so that euery wight
Of this season wexeth glad and light.

And I so glad of the season swete,
Was happed thus vpon a certaine night,
As I lay in my bed, sleepe full vnmete
Was vnto me, but why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist, for there nas earthly wight
As I suppose had more hertes ease
Than I, for I nad sicknesse nor disease

Wherefore I meruail greatly of my selfe,
That I so long withouten sleepe lay,
And vp I rose thre houres after twelfe,
About the springing of the day,

And on I put my geare and mine array,
And to a pleasaunt groue I gan passe,
Long or the bright sonne vp risen was.

In which were okes great, streight as a line,
Under the which the grasse so fresh of hew,
Was newly sprong, and an eight foot or nine
Euery tree well fro his fellow grew,
With branches brode, lade with leues new,
That sprongen out ayen the sunne shene,
Some very red, and some a glad light grene.

Which as me thought was right a pleasant sight,
And eke the briddes song for to here,
Would haue rejoyced any earthly wight,
And I that couth not yet in no manere
Heare the nightingale of all the yeare,

Ful busily herkened with herte and with eare,
If I her voice perceiue coud any where.

And at the last a path of little bread
I found, that greatly had not vsed be,
For it forgrowne was with grasse and weed,
That well vnneth a wight might it se:
Thoght I this path some whider goth parde,
And so I followed, till it me brought
To right a pleasaunt herber well ywrought,

That benched was, and with turfes new
Freshly turued, whereof the grene gras,
So small, so thicke, so short, so fresh of hew,
That most like vnto green well wot I it was,
The hegge also that yede in compas,
And closed in all the greene herbere,
With sicamour was set and eglatere,

Wrethen in fere so well and cunningly,
That euery branch and leafe grew by mesure,
Plaine as a bord, of an height by and by,
I see neuer thing I you ensure,

So well done, for he that tooke the cure
It to make ytrow, did all his peine

To make it passe all tho that men haue seine.

And shapen was this herber roofe and all
As a prety parlour, and also
The hegge as thicke as a castle wall,
That who that list without to stond or go,
Though he would all day prien to and fro,
He should not see if there were any wight
Within or no, but one within well might

Perceive all tho that yeden there without
In the field that was on euery side
Couered with corn and grasse, that out of doubt,
Though one would seeke all the world wide,

So rich a field coud not be espide

On no coast, as of the quantity,
For of all good thing there was plenty.

And I that all this pleasaunt sighte sie,
Thought sodainly I felt so sweet an aire
Of the eglentere, that certainely

There is no herte I deme in such dispaire,
Ne with thoughts froward and contraire,
So ouerlaid, but it should soone haue bote,
If it had ones felt this sauour sote.

And as I stood and cast aside mine eie,
I was ware of the fairest medle tree
That euer yet in all my life I sie,
As full of blossomes as it might be,
Therein a goldfinch leaping pretile-
Fro bough to bough, and as him list he eet
Here and there of buds and floures sweet.

And to the herber side was joyning
This faire tree, of which I haue you told,
And at the last the brid began to sing,
Whan he had eaten what he eat wold,
So passing sweetly, that by manifold
It was more pleasaunt than I coud deuise,
And whan his song was ended in this wise,

The nightingale with so merry a note
Answered him, that all the wood rong
So sodainly, that as it were a sote,

I stood astonied, so was I with the song
Thorow rauished, that till late and long,
I ne wist in what place I was, ne where,
And ayen me thought she song euen by mine ere.

Wherefore I waited about busily

On euery side, if I her might see,
And at the last I gan full well aspie
Where she sat in a fresh grene laurer tree,
On the further side euen right by me,
That gaue so passing a delicious smell,
According to the eglentere full well.

Whereof I had so inly great pleasure,
That as me thought I surely rauished was
Into Paradice, where my desire
Was for to be, and no ferther passe
As for that day, and on the sote grasse
I sat me downe, for as for mine entent,
The birds song was more conuenient,

And more pleasaunt to me by manifold,
Than meat or drinke, or any other thing,
Thereto the herber was so fresh and cold,
The wholesome sauours eke so comforting,
That as I demed, sith the beginning
Of the world was neuer seene or than
So pleasaunt a ground of none earthly man.

And as I sat the birds harkening thus,
Me thought that I heard voices sodainly,
The most sweetest and most delicious
That euer any wight I trow truly
Heard in their life, for the armony
And sweet accord was in so good musike,
That the uoice to angels most was like.

At the last out of a groue euen by,
That was right goodly and pleasant to sight,
I sie where there came singing lustily
A world of ladies, but to tell aright
Their great beauty it lieth not in my might,
Ne their array, neuerthelesse I shall
Tell you a part, though I speake not of all.

The surcotes white of veluet wele sitting,
They were in clad, and the semes echone,
As it were a manner garnishing,
Was set with emerauds one and one,
By and by, but many a rich stone
Was set on the purfles out of dout
Of colors, sleues, and traines round about.

As great pearles round and orient,
Diamonds fine and rubies red,

And many another stone, of which I went
The names now, and euerich on her head
A rich fret of gold, which without dread
Was full of stately rich stones set,
And euery lady had a chapelet

On her head of fresh and greene,
So wele wrought and so meruellously,
That it was a noble sight to seene,
Some of laurer, and some full pleasantly
Had chapelets of woodbind, and sadly
Some of agnus castus were also

Chapelets fresh, but there were many of tho

That daunced and eke song full soberly,
But all they yede in manner of compace,
But one ther yede in mid the company,
Soole by her selfe, but all followed the pace
That she kept, whose heauenly figured face
So pleasant was, and her wele shape person,
That of beauty she past hem euerichone.

And more richly beseene by manifold
She was also in euery manner thing,
On her head full pleasaunt to behold,
A crowne of gold rich for any king,
A braunch of agnus castus eke bearing
In her hand, and to my sight truly,
She lady was of the company.

And she began a roundell lustely,

That" Suse le foyle, de vert moy," men call,
"Seen et mon ioly cuer en dormy,"
And than the company answered all,
With voice sweet entuned, and so small,
That me thought it the sweetest melody
That euer I heard in my life soothly.

And thus they came dauncing and singing
Into the middest of the mede echone,
Before the herber where I was sitting,
And God wot me thought I was wel bigone,
For than I might auise hem one by one,
Who fairest was, who coud best dance or sing,
Or who most womanly was in all thing.

They had not daunced but a little throw,
Whan that I heard not ferre off sodainly,
So great a noise of thundring trumps blow,
As though it should haue departed the skie,
And after that within a while I sie,

From the same groue where the ladies come out,
Of men of armes comming such a rout,

As all the men on earth had ben assembled
In that place, wele horsed for the nones,
Stering so fast, that all the earth trembled:
But for to speake of riches and stones,
And men and horse I trow the large wones,
Of Pretir John ne all his tresory,

Might not vnneth haue boght the tenth party.

Of their array who so list heare more,
I shall rehearse so as I can alite:
Out of the groue that I spake of before,
I sie come first all in their clokes white,
A company that ware for their delite,
Chapelets fresh of okes seriall,

Newly sprong, and trumpets they were all.

On euery trumpe hanging a broad banere
Of fine tartarium were full richely bete,
Euery trumpet his lords armes bere
About their neckes with great pearles sete,
Collers brode for cost they would not lete,
As it would seem for their schochones echone,
Were set about with many a precious stone.

Their horse harneis was all white also,
And after them next in one company,
Came kings of armes and no mo

In clokes of white cloth of gold richly,
Chapelets of greene on their heads on hie,
The crowns that they on their shcochones bere,
Were set with pearle, ruby, and saphere.

And eke great diamonds many one,
But all their horse harneis and other geare
Was in a sute according euerychone,

As ye haue heard that foresaid trumpets were,
And by seeming they were nothing to lere,
And their guiding, they did so manerly,
And after hem came a great company

Of herauds and purseuaunts eke,
Arrayed in clothes of white veluet,
And hardily they were no thing to seke,
How they on hem should the harneis set,
And euery man had on a chapelet
Schochones and eke horse harneis indede,
They had in sute of hem that before hem yede.

Next after hem came in armour bright
All saue their heads, seemely knights nine,
And euery claspe and naile as to my sight
Of their harneis were of red gold fine,
With cloth of gold, and furred with ermine
Were the trappors of their stedes strong,
Wide and large, that to the ground did hong.

And euery bosse of bridle and paitrell
That they had, was worth as I would wene,
A thousand pound, and on their heads well
Dressed were crownes of laurer grene,
The best made that euer I had sene,
And euery knight had after him riding
Three henshmen on him awaiting.

Of which euery on o short tronchoun
His lords helme bare, so richly dight,
That the worst was worth the ransoun
Of a king, the second a shield bright
Bare at his necke, the thred bare vpright
A mighty spere, full sharpe ground and kene,
And euery child ware of leaues grene

A fresh chapelet vpon his haires bright,
And clokes white of fine veluet they were,
Their steeds trapped and raied right
Without difference as their lords were,
And after hem on many a fresh corsere,
There came of armed knights such a rout,
That they besprad the large field about.

And all they ware after their degrees
Chaplets new made of laurer grene,
Some of oke, and some of other trees,
Some in their honds bare boughs shene,
Some of laurer, and some of okes kene,
Some of hauthorne, and some of woodbind,
And many mo which I had not in mind.

And euery lady tooke full womanly

By the hond a knight, and forth they yede
Unto a faire laurer that stood fast by,
With leues lade the boughes of great brede,
And to my dome there neuer was indede
Man, that had seene halfe so faire a tree,
For vnderneath there might it well haue be
An hundred persons at their owne plesance
Shadowed fro the heat of Phebus bright,
So that they should haue felt no greuance
Of raine ne haile that hem hurt might,
The sauour eke rejoice would any wight,
That had be sicke or melancolius,
It was so very good and vertuous.

And with great reuerence they enclining low
To the tree so soot and faire of hew,
And after that within a little throw
They began to sing and daunce of new,
Some song of loue, some plaining of vntrew,
Enuironning the tree that stood vpright,
And euer yede a lady and a knight.

And at the last I cast mine eye aside,
And was ware of a lusty company
That came roming out of the field wide,
Hond in hond a knight and a lady,
The ladies all in surcotes, that richely
Purfiled were with many a rich stone,
And euery knight of green ware mantles on,
Embrouded well so as the surcotes were,
And euerich had a chapelet on her hed,
Which did right well vpon the shining here,
Made of goodly floures white and red,
The knights eke that they in hond led
In sute of hem ware chapelets euerychone,
And before hem went minstrels many one,

As harpes, pipes, lutes, and sautry
All in greene, and on their heads bare
Of diuers floures made full craftely
All in a sute goodly chapelets they ware,
And so dauncing into the mede they fare,
In mid the which they found a tuft that was
All ouersprad with floures in compas.

Whereto they enclined euerychone
With great reuerence, and that full humbly,
And at the last there began anone
A lady for to sing right womanly
A bargaret in praising the daisie,

For as me thought among her notes swete,
She said, "Si douset et la Margarete."

Than they all answered her in fere,
So passingly well, and so pleasauntly,
That it was a blisful noise to here,
But I not it happed suddainly,
As about noone the sonne so feruently
Waxe hote, that the prety tender floures
Had lost the beauty of hir fresh colours.

For shronke with heat, the ladies eke to brent,
That they ne wist where they hem might bestow,
The knights swelt for lack of shade nie shent,
And after that within a little throw,
The wind began so sturdily to blow,
That down goeth all the floures euerichone,
So that in all the mede there laft not one,

Save such as succoured were among the leues,
Fro euery storme that might hem assaile,
Growing vnder hedges and thicke greues,
And after that there came a storme of haile,
And raine in fere, so that withouten faile,
The ladies ne the knights nade o threed
Drie on them, so dropping was hir weed.
And whan the storm was cleane passed away,
Tho in white that stood vnder the tree,
They felt nothing of the great affray,
That they in greene without had in ybs,
To them they yede for routh and pite,
Them to comfort after their great disease,
So faine they were the helplesse for to ease.
Than I was ware how one of hem in grene
Had on a crowne rich and well sitting,
Wherefore I demed well she was a quene,
And tho in greene on her were awaiting,
The ladies than in white that were comming
Toward them, and the knights in fere
Began to comfort hem, and make hem chere.

The queen in white, that was of great beauty,
Took by the hond the queen that was in grene,
And said, "Suster, I have right great pitie
Of your annoy, and of the troublous tene,
Wherein ye and your company haue bene
So long alas, and if that it you please
To go with me, I shall do you the ease,
"In all the pleasure that I can or may,"
Whereof the tother humbly as she might,
Thanked her, for in right ill array

She was with storm and heat I you behight,
And euery lady than anone right

That were in white, one of them took in grene
By the hond, which whan the knights had sene,