# Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 75

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LXXV
Herein examples may you see Of Nature’s power and subtlety.
The captive bird The bird which from the wood is lured, Captured, and in gay cage immured, Tended with gentle love and care, And fed with choice and dainty fare, With pleasant song our ear enchants, But yet one thing doth lack, it pants14660 Once more to flit among the boughs And branches which so well it knows And where ’twould once more gladly be.
In vain you nurse it tenderly, ​Ever it pineth to regain That liberty whereof ’tis fain; Its food it treads beneath its feet, And ’gainst the bars its wings doth beat, And up and down its prison goes From daylight’s dawn till twilight’s close.14670 Seeking its passage to make good Through door or window to the wood. Women love liberty And every woman doth possess Within her that same restlessness, Whatever her condition be, Matron or maid; unceasingly One only thought hath she in mind, Which is, how she may some way find Her ancient liberty to get, Thereon, ’fore all, her heart is set.14680
And so it is with every wight Who hath him in a cloister pight, For so he feels repentance’ pang That almost he for rage would hang Himself, he hath but one desire, Which burneth up his heart like fire; He pants once more for liberty, And vain the struggle findeth he With change of frock to change his bent For worldly pleasure;—sacrament14690 And holy vows are nought to him.
E’en so a foolish fish doth swim Within a net, whose mouth is wide For entry, but when once inside. ​The netted fish Shuts on him, and for evermore A prisoner stays he, till ashore He’s cast to die; but those without Crowd round untroubled by a doubt But what he hath great plenitude Therein of leisure, peace, and food,14700 When they perceive him wheel and turn As if content, and fain would learn How they may likewise live at ease With nought to do except appease Their hunger, and the livelong day They pass in seeking out some way By which they too may enter in And equal life of joyance win: They vex and worry them to get An entry to that envied net,14710 But once within, they must remain, Escape past hope, repentance vain, And they therein their lives must spend Till friendly death brings welcome end.
So each bright youth to servitude Doth go who takes the monkish hood, For neither cowl, nor broad-brimmed hat, Nor cloister gown, can smother that Which Nature in his heart did plant, And, unfulfilled, still leaves a want.14720 He’s worse than dead, for all his life Is racked and torn by mental strife, Or else with broken spirit he Plays virtue ’gainst necessity. Dame Nature lieth not, but still His mind with bitter thoughts doth fill ​Of freedom lost: Horace this thing Saith well, ’tis worth remembering: “Though any man should seize a fork, To drive dame Nature from her work,14730 Beat her, and chase her out of doors, She’ll quick return to pay old scores.” What matters it? Do what you will, Each living creature must fulfil Its nature, and although you drive It far, it will return and thrive; Nature despiseth violence, And hath of man-made law small sense:
And thus finds Venus fair excuse When she from trammels breaketh loose;14740 And so it is with dames, I trow, Who chafe beneath the marriage-vow. Nature it is who draws them still Towards freedom, or for good or ill, And she so strong is that in vain Men seek her power to curb and rein.
Example of the cat If one should take, dear son, a cat That ne’er had known of mouse or rat, And feed him up most tenderly With choicest meats, nor let him see14750 By any chance or rat or mouse, Yet if should run across the house Or one or other in his view, Like bolt from bow he’ll ’scape from you And snap it up, for Nature ’tis Impelleth him thereto ywis; He’ll rather hunt a mouse than sate His maw with morsels delicate, ​For ’twixt the twain can never be Treaty of peace and amity.14760
Example of the horse Or if a new-foaled colt you rear, So that he ne’er beholds a mare Till he becomes a full-grown steed For bit and saddle good at need; A jennet comes within his sight, At once he neighs with proud delight, And speedeth madly o’er the field, Unless he needs to rein must yield. Not only black steed seeks a black, But brown, or grey as soon will back,14770 Or roan, or any other strain, Unless he’s held by bridle-rein. He troubles not to spy around, But gaily takes them as they’re found, And in succession serves them all, If but the chance to him befall. So with a little chestnut mare, Unless she be restrained with care, She’ll seek brown, grey, and black in turns E’en as desire within her burns;14780 The first one that her fancy takes, Husband of him she straightway makes. And what of horse and mare, I say, Whether black, brown, or roan, or grey, Is likewise true of bull and cow, And eke of ram and ewe, I trow, For rest assured that each of these Of either sex make free to please And suit themselves, as e’en they may, With spouse at will from day to day.14790 ​Bold avowal So is it, by my soul, I swear, Fair son, with every human pair, Although the law doth claim of right To check somewhat the appetite. Somewhat! methinks, a deal too much, For when folk fall within the clutch Of law, it bids that each shall cling To each in every mortal thing, And husband seek his wife alone, And she be his both flesh and bone,14800 And both shall each to other give Themselves, unchanging while they live; Yet each, forsooth, doth long to be From all restraint and bondage free. And those who view this thing with clear Impartial eye will know ’tis fear And shame alone that hold folk back,
Who else would tread in Nature’s track, And, like the cattle, follow sense: Thereof I’ve had experience14810 Myself, for I would give away My love to any day by day. And had I not been cowed by shame, Which curbs the will of many a dame, When through the town I marching went (Which none could hinder or prevent), So decked and dizened, all might know The part I played, from outward show, And saw well-liking varlets cast Soft looks upon me as I passed14820 (Good Lord! what tremors through me ran Exchanging glances with a man), ​Not one, but all would I embrace, Could I but find fit time and place; Giving to each in turn his due Had I been equal thereunto; And each had will, as I believe, In turn my favours to receive: All men faithless Prelate or monk except I not, Nor knight, nor canon, sage or sot,14830 Burgess or friar, within my fold All would I take, if not too old. Religion they’d have cast aside, Except they feared to be denied When they should court me. If that they Had only understood my way Of thinking, as of women all, Such fear they ne’er had let befall Their hearts. Each one, had they dared, I trow, had readily declared14840 Their wedlock void, that they to me Might give themselves all utterly, Religion spurning, and despite Of oath or honour, faith or right, Except perchance, ’twere some poor fool, Who ne’er had let his love grow cool For her whose heart he’d gained in youth. Such one would courteously, forsooth, Decline my love and turn to her His well-beloved sweet comforter.14850 But lovers of that sort are rare. By God and Saint Amand I swear, If only opportunity Of time and place were given to me ​To talk with such an one on love, If lies or truth his tongue should move And whether he lay or churchman were, Or regular or secular, Cinctured with girdle grey or red, Or hood or hat bedecked his head,14860 He should right soon declare his flame, Whether in me he saw the same To burn, or only deemed a whim I had myself to yield to him. Nature for ever busies her. Desire in all men’s hearts to stir, Mars and Venus Therefore, dear son, should we be slow Venus and Mars to blame, I trow. And though the Gods in mockery laughed To see the pair by Vulcan’s craft14870 Ensnared, yet many a one full fain Had been, could he the place have ta’en Of Mars, in Venus’ fond embrace, While Vulcan, mad with his disgrace, Two thousand marks had rather given Than cuckold stand before high heaven. The pair he thus exposed to shame, Reckless of scorn henceforth became, And boldly practised that which they Strove erst to hide from light of day,14880 Shame and decorum cast aside. And then the Gods told far and wide The tale, till all through heaven ’twas known, From mouth to mouth mid laughter thrown. And Vulcan stormed with rage to think The draught he brewed he needs must drink, ​Since for his folly nought could he Find balsam, salve, or remedy. Rather than trap the twain, indeed, ’Twere wiser to have given no heed,14890 But silently resolve in mind To be to Venus’ failings blind. So long as she towards him behaved With kindness, granting all he craved.
Folly of Jealousy From this, let no man e’er forget That grievous folly ’tis to set A trap whereby a wife may be Convicted of inconstancy; For if she find her thus exposed, The door of virtue feels she closed14900 Behind her, and the unhappy wretch, Whom evil-eyed suspicions stretch Upon the rack, when he hath caught His wife, shall ne’er again know aught Of peace or happiness, but die (Continued from l. 14550) The prey of cruel Jealousy.]
But she, forsooth, doth merely make Pretence of jealousy to wake His anger, and yet cause that he With love may burn more ardently.14910
And if he parry not the stroke, But saith, her anger to provoke, ’Tis true he hath another friend; Then she, with view to gain her end, Should cry: No button doth she care, What is his other love to her? ​For knows she all the while that he Thereto entends not seriously. A woman’s sense Then in her turn will she, with mind More closely round his heart to wind14920 Her toils, pretend some other is More suited to her taste, ywis, And fain of him would she be quit, Exclaiming: ’Tis but right and fit, Since I am cuckolded by you, That our old love were broken through. Is it surprising if I wish We both should eat from out one dish? And then shall he be vexed above All measure, if so be he love14980 Her fondly, reft his chief delight; For no man feels love’s flame burn bright Within his breast, but’s racked with dread, Lest horns, perchance, adorn his head.
Then, as if some wild beast gave chase, The chambermaid, with fear-struck face, Runs in, and cries: Alas! we’re lost, The master hath this moment crossed The fore-court! When the damsel hears This cry, her face wild terror wears,14940 While she her gallant thrusteth in To some dark cupboard, chest, or bin, Whence, when the proper time arrive, She lets him out, more dead than ’live. And he, who anxiously doth wait Until she comes to liberate Him once again, by dire despair And fear is torn while crouching there. ​A lover tricked Then, if it prove some new-lit flame, To whom, incautiously, the dame,14950 Hath given untimely rendezvous, She’ll quick determine what to do; And while she keeps the one close hid, The later comer will she bid Welcome in some small chamber near, And grant the grace he seeks of her, But let him know he must away Forthwith, howe’er he beg to stay, And though with rage and grief he cry, Boldly to him will she reply:14960 Hence! hence! delay behoveth not, For I within the house have got My husband and my cousin kin, And were you found by them herein, I swear, by God and Saint Germain, I ne’er should see your face again; Another time I’ll gladly make You welcome till the morning break, But stay not now, nor hesitate, My presence all those folk await.14970 The house of him she needs must clear, For till he goes she’s racked with fear. And then must she return in haste To where the other one doth waste His hour in terror, lest that he Be dragged forth ignominiously; And freeing him from where he’s hid,
For consolation doth she bid Him welcome to her loving arms, As solace for his past alarms;14980 ​But, ere permitting all he will, Into his mind doth she instil A sense of what great risks she’s run, And fearsome dangers undergone, While she of madness doth accuse Herself, who thus by artful ruse Deceives her husband, e’en while she Doth wrong herself exceedingly.
Danger heightens pleasure And, by her father’s soul she swears That this adventure which she dares14900 To pleasure him doth cost too dear, Although, God wot, they’ve less to fear Within her room than those who go To sport in fields ’neath vines arow, But pleasure all the more ’tis spiced With danger is more highly prized. And whensoe’er they come to lie Together in their secresy, ’Tis well that she exclude the light From every casement, lest he might15000 Upon her body spy some spot Or blemish, when right well I wot Forth from her chamber would he go As bolt or arrow shot from bow. [Pass eighteen lines, they nought avail To make, but rather mar the tale.] And should they twixt themselves agree That, opportune ’twould sometimes be For her in turn to make repair To where he dwells, she’ll take good care15010 So to arrange that somewhat late She comes, for if she makes him wait ​Awhile, she doth but fan the fire Of anxious unfulfilled desire, The game of love, I scarce need say. But winneth zest by short delay. And little joy the heart doth reap From pleasure it may win good cheap. False fears But when she comes within the house And finds reception amorous,15020 She then should vow, with signs of fear, How that her jealous spouse anear Hath watched her, and she dreads to think What bitter draught she needs must drink, So soon as she again doth come Beneath his tyrant hand at home. But howsoe’er she plain and sigh, Whether she speak the truth or lie, A parlous fear should she dissemble, And, dreading nought, seem all atremble,15030 For this will much the joy enhance Betwixt them of soft dalliance.
But if to him she cannot fare Nor bid him to her home doth dare, So close a watch her jealous spouse Maintains both in and out the house, To free her she must cause to wink His wakeful eyes ’neath well-spiced drink, And if he fail to nod ’neath wine, Herbs should she with his drink combine,15040 Or mix with food (but in such wise That nought of danger thence arise), And then shall he so soundly sleep As neither watch nor ward to keep, ​And she at leisure may fulfil, Unlet or hindered, all her will. If lackeys hath she, let her heed That this and that one forth she speed While coin, if wisely on them spent, Will greatly help her fond intent.15050 Or if she fears lest they should know Her secret, make them drunk also. The bagnio Or to her husband may she say: “I feel quite out of health to-day, Some fever, gout, or inward grief, Affecteth me past all belief; Our baths are useless, I must hie Me towards the bagnio presently; A vapour bath alone can give Me ease, if you would have me live.”15060 Though for a while the wretch delay Consent, at last she gets her way; For when he hath with sorry face Pondered thereon, with wry grimace He yields though of his shame afraid. Then goes she with her chambermaid, Or else some friendly neighbour, who Knows well what ’tis her will to do, Or some companion hath perchance With whom she carries on love’s dance.15070 Then to the bagnio will she speed, Though to the baths she gives small heed, Or else perhaps the bathhouse shuns And to her swain’s embraces runs. Unless indeed between them ’twere Agreed that they a bath should share, ​For should he knowledge gain that she Comes there, there also will he be.
No man a woman can protect Who for herself hath no respect.15080 Yea, e’en was Argus overmatched Though with his hundred eyes he watched, Whereof one moiety he kept Wide open while the other slept, For therefore Mercury was sped By Jove to shear off Argus’ head, Fair Io to revenge I trow, Whom he transformed had to a cow. Futile his watch—a heavy yoke Bears he who meddles with such folk.15090
Love-potions useless But let a woman note this well: Whatever clerks or laymen tell Let her no idle tales believe (Which none but fools as truth receive) Of sorcerers and enchanters dire, Or witches dancing round the fire, E’en though they might surpass the fancy
Of Helenus in necromancy And second-sight, nor let her think That she by potions and charmed drink15100 Can draw some lover to her side Who from his faith hath wandered wide.
Ne’er could Medea win again False Jason, he of Glauce fain; Nor could wise Circe’s magic art Control Ulysses’ wandering heart. ​A woman’s gifts Most careful should a woman be, Though she a man loves tenderly, Gifts to forbear of value great: A pillow soft and delicate,15110 A purse, a handkerchief, or hood, Not costly, though fair made and good, A silken lace, a belt to clasp His waist with inexpensive hasp. Or pretty pocket-knife of steel, Or scarf fine wove, and soft to feel, Such as are made by cloistered nuns. But give not to those holy ones Your love, for women secular In such affairs are safer far.15120 More free are they to do whate’er They fancy, and on hand they bear Their friends or spouses as they please, But costly both are those and these; Yet deem I, should I judge the twain, That nuns cost most with no more gain. But women’s gifts will men of sense Receive with doubt and diffidence, For all too often are they nought But traps whereby fond fools are caught;15130 And ’gainst their nature women sin, Who seek by gifts men’s love to win.
Largess is better left to men; Women but compass mischief when They give great gifts; I’ve noticed oft The devil made our hearts too soft. But nought it matters—few are they Of women who give much away. ​The gifts that I have named to you, Fair son, are such as well will do15140 The fools to cozen, cheat, and gull, Of which, good Lord, the world’s brimfull. Forget not old age All that is given to you, hold fast, Remembering youth will soon be past, For on us creepeth, day by day, Old age which none can let or stay. Take care to garnish well your purse, For thus may you avoid the curse That surely falls on all folk left In age’s cave, of goods bereft.15150 Get wealth, for men of starveling need Are valued not one mustard seed. Alas! poor fool! that I did not Practise what now I preach, God wot!
All the fair gifts that came to me From those who loved me follily, As readily I gave again To men of whom my heart was fain, And gifts have brought me in old age To eat the bread of vassalage;15160 The flight of time ne’er troubled me, And hence, alas! my misery. Of poverty had I no dread. But as time came e’en so it sped, All that I gat I freely spent, ’Twas lightly won and lightly went; Yea, by my soul I might have been, If prudent, wealthy as a queen, For many a rich man at my feet Had I, when gentle, young, and sweet,15170 ​And held them fast within my snare. Infatuation By God and St. Thibaud I swear That all I had amassed I gave Unto a false and traitorous knave, Who pleased me above all, though he Put me to shame most cruelly: My love, I many another called, But he ’fore all my heart enthralled; Alas! though tender, true, and keen My love, he prized me not a bean.15180 Ah! then to what disgrace I fell! The villain made my life a hell, Entreated me with foul disgrace, And called me strumpet ’fore my face. A woman am I and no more, And woman’s judgment-wit is poor. The man who loved me, loved I not, But him who did my features blot With blows, and beat me with his fist, Adored I, and that foul hand kissed.15190 The more he beat me, all the more My heart felt to its very core Fond love of him. So well his peace He made, that soon another lease Of love I gave him, though my back And bosom beat he blue and black With ugly bruises, and no trace Of beauty left he on my face, Till I to him for mercy cried, And then when he repentant sighed15200 (Of loving favours once more fain), The wretch, who held my life amain ​Within his power, so deftly spake, That I permitted him to make His peace within my arms, for he The game of love knew perfectly. Ah! villain, traitor, perjured thief, How fond my love! how keen my grief! I cared to live for him alone, And at his beck had freely gone15120 Across the seas; yea had he sped To London, I had followèd. A wastrel So loved I him, so loved he me, That each shamed each right recklessly, And he in riotous display All that I gave him cast away, In taverns lording it at dice, Deep sunk in every wildest vice, And scorning any craft to learn Whereby he might fair living earn,15220 Nor saw why he thereof should heed While I supplied his wasteful need, And well I knew the means whereby To feed his lawless luxury. For all the world my tenants were, And what I gained with many a care And deep disgrace, I showered on him, While he indulged each caitiff whim. No thought had he to pass the time In aught but riot, vice, and crime,15230 And was of mouth so tender, it Loved not to feel the needful bit. But a drear season dawned at last, The day of light-won gifts was past, ​We begged our bread devoid of home, Our goods not worth a hackle-comb. No husband had I ever wed, But hither came as I have said, Torn, worn, and scratched with many a briar.
Walk warily Most earnestly do I desire,15240 Fair son, that you should learn of me Wisely to walk and warily. And thus my sad experience May to your youth be shield and fence. For when your Rose is withered quite, And raven locks exchanged for white, Then will you lack the gifts that snow On every side around you now.
The Author.
Thus the Duenna preached and prosed, To which Fair-Welcome nought opposed,15250 But gladly gave the sermon ear, Feeling of her less dread and fear Than he had done in time gone by; For now it seemed, assuredly, That but for Jealousy’s ill-will And those three porters who fulfil Her hestings (three at least alive Who still with mad endeavour strive To hold the fort), but light it were To take the stronghold unaware,15260 But yet he doubts that scarce can be. While it is watched so studiously. ​Evil-Tongue unregretted The death of Evil-Tongue doth not Cause unto them much grief, I wot: For he within the place had made Few friends, but each in turn betrayed And slandered to foul Jealousy, Past master of all falsehood, he. Not one among the whole of them Had given a wretched garlick stem15270 To save his life, except that dame Perchance, whom I of late did name. Upon her ear more sweetly fell His slanders than a chapel bell, And, her foul wretchedness, delight Found, when his shalm piped hate and spite. From her he hid no evil thing, That he could through long memory bring To light, if it might mischief do And foul misfortune thence ensue.15280 But counted ’mong his worst of crimes It was, that he would oftentimes Declare for truth tales false and vile, The which he would invent the while; Or add to simple stories true A fringe, which mean and base he knew, And thus, confounding wrong with right, Please Jealousy’s foul appetite, For of a truth he all his life Pastured on envy, hate, and strife.15290 For him no mass was said or sung, When in the moat his corse was flung, Nor did his friends his loss deplore, For when their strength they reckoned o’er, ​They judged they might the place defend, Although five thousand men should spend Their force thereon courageously.
The Three Porters.
Certes, cried they, but weak were we If we should fail the fort to hold Without this thief, this lying scold,15300 This traitor false, this felon dire, God grant the master of hell fire May harass and torment his soul! On all men wrought he grief and dole.
The Author.
Though these proud words the porters sped, Truth was it, whatsoe’er they said, Great loss to them was Evil-Tongue.
When the Duenna had outsung Her tale, Fair-Welcome took the word, And spake as one who having heard15310 Discourse, knows how to gloss thereon.
Fair-Welcome.
Fair-Welcome’s reply Madam, great honour have you done To me in teaching me your art, And therefor thank you from my heart, But when you spake to me of love, That bitter-sweet disease, above My power it was to understand Your meaning, but at second-hand, ​Nor long I more thereof to learn. When you describe how I might earn15320 Great wealth, thereto I can but say I have enough, and fain the way Would keep of gentle courtesy, Which sweet and grateful is to me. But devilish arts to magic due Despise I, whether false or true. Admit Fair-Welcome As to the youth on whom such high Praises you deign to multiply, And in whose manners, ways, and face, The fairest virtues find a place,15330 God grant that still in him they thrive. Nor him, nor any man alive I envy, nor indeed hath he Hold on my love to high degree, For though the chaplet that he sent I took, thereby no more I meant Of love than men mean when we hear Them say: “God save you,” or “Good cheer;” Or e’en as neighbours passing by: “God bless you, friend,” politely cry.15340 Honour I give to him above Most men, but no exceeding love; Yet since he sent this chaplet fair, And I accepted it, I swear Nought else had pleased me half as much. And since that his desire is such To see me, let him come e’en now And great will be my joy, I vow, ​To see his face; but time must he outwitted Choose when his foe, Dame Jealousy,15350 Goes hence, for greatly should I fear Mishap if she should find him here, And sorely dread that she may lack Some thing or other, and turn back, Though forth she pass, for ofttimes she Returns all unexpectedly; Then straight, with temper more than warm, About my head she’d raise a storm. Such hatred in her breast doth burn Against me, that should she return15360 By chance, and find the lover here. Though of all blame I might be clear. My blood, past doubt by her, were shed. And I alive dismemberèd.
The Author.
Then the Duenna readily:
The Duenna.
Jealousy outwitted Nay, leave the care thereof to me; Although that he were in the house. With Jealousy the despitous. So help me God and St. Remy, More easily an ant’s egg she15370 Should find within a truss of hay, Than one I hide from light of day Herein, for every nook I know
Fair-Welcome.
To see him enter were I fain, Quoth he, but trust he may refrain From outrage or unseemliness.
The Duenna.
The Duenna consents By body of God! thou dost express Thyself, fair son, in wondrous wise: A jewel art thou in mine eyes.15380
The Lover.
They ceased—no more was left to say, And each one sped a different way, Fair-Welcome to his chamber hied, While the duenna must provide For matters of the house. But when Time, place, and season suited, then The hag, with will the work to do For which she gave her promise to Fair-Welcome, down the stair of stone Ran quickly, seeing him alone,15390 From out the tower, nor weary felt Until she came to where I dwelt, Hasting to tell me how I might Get of Fair-Welcome speech and sight. Then spake she as one wearied out.
The Duenna.
If I should bring to you, past doubt, News that your heart to joyance lifts,
The Lover.
The Fair gifts! aye, verily, good store, Rich robe and mantle fitted for15400 A queen, and hood with fur bedight, And dainty boots, and hosen white, If you but aid my cause;—then said The entry granted The hag that, well it were I sped Me towards the tower, where I should see Fair-Welcome, who awaited me; But ere she flitted did explain How best I might good entry gain.