# Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 33

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XXXIII
Dan William Lorris when he died, Had written nothing more beside The verses thou hast read. But when A forty years had flitted, then John Clopinel the end did speed— Behold his work, which all may read.4320
And, shall I bow then to despair, Abandoning Hope? ’Fore Heaven I swear That ne’er shall be, for thus were I An outcast, and most worthily Scorned and despised. If hope once fled My heart, far better were I dead. But Love declared that he should stay My steps and be my guide alway, Where’er I trod. But, after all, Will Hope prove faithful ? Though men call4330 ​Uncertainty of Hope Her courteous, sweet and debonair, Small wit have they who trust her fair And specious seeming. Yea, although Sweet kindness she at times may show To lovers, other whiles will she Lure them to deepest misery. And oftentimes will Hope pretend One’s love to be, but in the end Prove false, and many have found her thus. Most sweet and dear, but treacherous.4540 How many by her wiles have been Drawn on to love, yet ne’er have seen Fulfilment. Nothing more she knows Of what shall hap, than he who throws The dice, and often those who trust In Hope’s fair promises are thrust From highest heaven to deepest hell, As many a love-lorn wight could tell. And many a worthy man, alas! Through her hath seen his best days pass4350 To wreck and ruin. With her can be Nought certain, for uncertainty. Alone she lives on. Yet her will It is, the longing to fulfil Of those who wait on her. Oh why Should I then blame her wrathfully? Yet what avails her help or aid? Have I gained aught from her that made My sufferings less? Nowise I trow. For ne’er I find her promise grow4360 To ripeness, and a promise fair That doth not fruit in season bear, ​Hath little worth; I still remain As one beneath some curse or bane That waxeth ever. Danger, Fear, And Shame and Jealousy draw near To mock and gibe, while Evil-Tongue With speech envenomed worketh wrong To all good men, and dealeth death On every side with poisonous breath.4370 Fair-Welcome they in prison hold, To whom my thoughts would I unfold Freely, and reft of that delight, God grant me soon to die outright. Alas! I well-nigh choke with rage If I but let that hag engage My thoughts, whose vigilance, from sight Keepeth Fair-Welcome day and night.
Love’s three gifts Thereby my woes will mount apace, Although the God of Love’s sweet grace,4380 Gave me three gifts of sovereign power, Alas! small help in this dark hour Are they. Sweet-Thought avails me not, While of Soft-Speech no chance I’ve got,
And nought can Sweet-Looks do for me;
Unless God help me speedily, They must to me be lost past doubt. If dear Fair-Welcome should wear out His life in dreary prison cell, Held fast therein by treason fell,4390 He of my death the cause will be, For never, as I deem, will he Escape alive. Escape! alas! Small might have I through such a pass ​To bring him. What could my strength do A fortress-wall to batter through And draw him forth? My strength is gone Since that I madly made me one Of Love’s sworn servants. Idleness It was, with shame I now confess,4400 That brought my life to this estate, When she, at my request, the gate Of this fair garden open threw; Alas! that she no better knew Than hearken my insane desire; Such foolish asking should inspire Nought but contemptuous scorn, and she Should have reproved my idiocy— A madman’s prayer should not be more Considered than an apple core.4410 And mad was I, and therefore fell Through her good-nature to the hell I now endure of sighs and tears, And doublings, miseries, and fears.
Why reject Reason? Right well hath Reason understood My case; ah! why did I her good And kind advice, then, cast away, Love to forego? Woe worth the day! With justice did her lips reprove The hasty way in which to Love4420 I gave myself; ’twas thence, alas! My misery grew: could aught surpass My madness? Could I but forget The vows my lips have sworn! and yet What say I? Should I then betray My master, Love, and cast away ​Fair-Welcome, who hath been my friend, Doomed (for that crime alone) to spend Long days in durance, there to be The prisoner of foul Jealousy?4430 Great thanks I owe that generous youth, By whose kind courtesy forsooth I passed the hedge and won a kiss From that fair rose—the crown of bliss. Ne’er from my mouth one single word Shall ’gainst the God of Love be heard; But I unceasingly will bless And thank Fair-Hope and Idleness For all the gentle courtesy And grace their hands have shown to me.4440 But Love has his promise. No! ’tis my duty while I live. That unto martyrdom I give My body, but still hope to gain The comfort Love hath promised; fain Were I thereof, for ’tis the thing Would once again make joyance spring Within me. His sweet tenderness To me these words did once address: “Thy service willingly I take, And will of thee a master make4450 In love, if thou oppose me not, But long delays must be, God wot, For fortune cometh not in haste, And pain and suffering must thou taste Ere thou attain’st the end;” and so Thus speaking word for word, did show The love he bare to me. And now My one desire it is to bow ​My will to his, and thus deserve His praise. If one of us should swerve4460 From rectitude, alas! ’twere I, Not Love, who ever faithfully Keepeth his word; ’tis I alone My sin and folly must atone By suffering. But whence cometh this Malfeasance? I know not, ywis, To Love he will be faithful And ne’er shall know; but Love shall have Me wholly, or to lose or save. Yea, he may take my well-loved life, Or give it over unto strife4470 Through hopeless years, I bond thereto As helpless otherwise to do; Ere long perchance kind death will come To end my woes, and call me home. But if the God of Love, who wears My heart so hardly, while it cares Alone to pleasure him, demands My life, I yield it to his hands. Or cheerfully will bear what he Lays on me of calamity.4480 ’Tis his to do whate’er he will. And mine to bend, and suffer still His yoke. This thing alone I ask, That whatsoe’er of toil or task May fall upon me, or if death Be mine, he let my latest breath Protect Fair-Welcome, who will make My sepulchre for friendship’s sake. Receive, O God of Love, my prayer, Ere yet I die, for him who ne’er4490 ​Proved false. The testament Hear of your liegeman, whose intent Hath been to serve you well, and who Hath ne’er unfaithful been to you— Suffer Fair-Welcome to receive My heart, nought else have I to leave.
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