# Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 90

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The host, with will the fort to take, Against it fierce assault doth make, Yet hath the god but small success, Though fight his troops with hardiness, For those within resistance stout Make to assailants from without.
The fort attacked Then the two hosts their fury spend, Attacking these, while those defend. Labours the mighty mangonel. Casting great rocks, with purpose fell. Against the walls, whose guardians make Stout wattled palisades, to break The force thereof, with limber wood From Danger’s thickets deftly hewed.16560 Against them the besiegers send Great flights of keen-barbed arrows, penned With earnest vows and giftings fair, Which hope they in the end will bear Good recompense, for every shaft Hath graven on its polished haft Fair promises, and each steel head Is with strong oath or vow bestead. But well the guardians know the charge To parry, covering each with targe16570 His body, which might well resist The deadliest shaft that ever hissed In air, for made were they of wood From Danger’s forests, gnarled and good— ’Gainst them were keenest arrows vain.
As thus the combat goes amain, ​Cupid towards his mother flies, Declares his perilous state, and cries On her for help to break the wall.
Venus
The vow of Venus Exclaims she: May foul death befall16580 The very heart and soul of me If I, despite of Jealousy, Permit that of a woman’s heart Cold Chastity claim chiefest part. Too oft she brings me pain and care. Fair son, see thou that all men swear Within your pleasant paths to tread.
The God of Love.
Right willingly, God Cupid said; No living man shall be acclaimed For noble, or as gentle named16590 Who loveth not, or hath not been By damsel’s loving eyes beseen. What grief! to know some mortals live Who shun the joys ’tis mine to give; Casting my dear delights away, But they therefor shall smartly pay! All those I hate, who love me not, And dark and drear will make their lot. Of such men will I far and wide Complain, nor my displeasure hide16600 Or cloak, but will in many a mode Lay on their backs some grievous load ​Until I have my vengeance spent, And they avow them penitent, Or sink beneath my hate and scorn. A curse on those of Adam born Who dare to cross my sovereign will, Their very life-blood will I spill, Should they reject my dear delight! Yea, should some show me such despite16610 As fell me to the earth with blows, They’d do me no more hurt than those. I am not mortal, mother mine, But if it were so, I opine That ’neath such misery soon should I Wither and perish utterly. Love’s joys For if my pleasures men gave o’er To me were left then nothing more Saving my body and attire, My bow and chaplet; all the fire16620 Of love extinct, then were men’s power Of joyance dead, woe worth the hour! For counting me of none avail They must beneath life’s burden fail; For where could mortal happier be
The Author.
Straightway that oath, the host all swore. And, that it might be made more sure. In place of relics brought they rows Of quivers, arrows, pikes and bows,16630 ​And all Love’s implements of war, And cried:
The Barons of the host with one voice.
The barons’ oath Are these not better far Than relics? Upon them will we Make oath and pledge most solemnly; If on such things false oaths we sware Our credit lost for ever were.
The Author.
They swore on these, and nought beside, For therein did their hearts confide, And true their oath was, as might be Sworn on the Holy Trinity.16640