Payne of all payne the most grevous paine
Ys to love hartelye and cannot
be loved againe.
Love with unkindenesse is cause of hevenis
Of inward sorro and sighis painefull.
Whereas I love is no redresse
To no maner of pastime, the sprites
so dull
With privy morninges, and lokes
rufull ;
The boddye all wrislye the color
pale and wan,
More like a gost than like a lyving
man
When Cupido hath enflamed the hertes desyres
To love there as ys disdayne,
Of guerdon ill, the mynde oblivyous,
Nothing regarding but love tattayne,
Alwais imagining by what meane
or traine
Yt may be at rest, thus in a momente
Now here, now there, being never
contente.
Tossing and torning, when
the bodye wold rest,
With dreamis opprest and visions
fantasticall,
Sleping or waking, love is ever
preste,
Some tyme to wepe, some tyme to
crye and call,
Bewayling his fortune and lif bestiall
;
Now in hope of recure, and now
in despaire,
This ys a sorye lyf to lyve alwaye
in care.
Recorde of Terence in his
remedis poeticall :
Yn love ys Jelosy, and inimis mannye
on,
Angre, and debate, with mynde sensuall,
Now warre now peace, musing all
alone ;
Some tyme all morte and colde as
anye stone.
This causith unkyndenesse of suche
as cannot skill
Of trewe love assurde with herte
and good will.
Lucrece the Romaine for love of her lorde
And byecause perforce she had commit
advowtrye
With Tarquinus, as the storye doth
recorde
Herself did slee with a knif most
pituoslye
Among her nigh frendes ; bye cause
that she
So falslye was betrayd, lo this
was the guerdon,
Wheras true love hath no domynyon.
To make so ferefull of olde
antiquitye
What nedeth it ? We see by experience.
Among lovers it chaunceth daylye
Displeasor and variance for none
offens ;
But if true love myght gyve sentens,
That unkyndenes and disdayne shuld
have no place
But true harte, for true love,
yt ware a gret grace !
O Venus, Ladye, of Love the
goddesse
Help all true lovers to have love
agayne
Bannishe from thye presens disdayne
and unkyndenesse,
Kyndnesse and pytie to thy servise
retayne
For true love, ons fixed in the
cordiale vayne
Can never be revoulsid by no maner
of arte
Unto the sowle from the boddye
departe. |
|
Pain of all pain the most grievous pain
Is to love heartily and cannot
be loved again. 2
Love with unkindness is cause of heaviness,
Of inward sorrow and sighs painful.
Whereas I love is no redress
To no manner of pastime, the sprites
so dull 6
With privy mournings, and looks
rueful;
The body all wrisly, the colour
pale and wan,
More like a ghost than like a living
man 9
When Cupido hath enflamed the heart's desires
To love there as is disdain,
Of guerdon ill, the mind, oblivious,
Nothing regarding but love t'attain,
13
Always imagining by what mean or
train
It may be at rest, thus in a moment
Now here, now there, being never
content 16
Tossing and turning, when the
body would rest,
With dreams oppressed and visions
fantastical,
Sleeping or waking, love is ever
pressed,
Some time to weep, some time to
cry and call, 20
Bewailing his fortune and life
bestial;
Now in hope of recure, and now
in despair.
This is a sorry life to live alway
in care. 23
Record of Terence in his comedies
poetical:
In love is jealousy, and enemies
many a one,
Anger, and debate, with mind sensual,
Now war, now peace, musing all
alone; 27
Some time all morte and cold as
any stone.
This causeth unkindness of such
as cannot skill
Of true love assured with heart
and good will. 30
Lucrece the Roman for love of her lord
And because perforce she had commit
advowtry
With Tarquinus, as the story doth
record
Herself did slay with a knife most
piteously 34
Among her nigh friends; because
that she
So falsely was betrayed, lo this
was the guerdon,
Whereas true love hath no dominion.
37
To make so fearful of old antiquity
What needeth it ? We see by experience:
Among lovers it chanceth daily
Displeasure and variance for none
offence; 41
But if true love might give sentence,
That unkindness and disdain should
have no place
But true heart, for true love,
it were a great grace! 44
O Venus, Lady, of Love the goddess
Help all true lovers to have love
again
Banish from thy presence disdain
and unkindness,
Kindness and pity to thy service
retain. 48
For true love, once fixed in the
cordial vein
Can never be revulsed by no manner
of art
Until the soul from the body depart. 51 |