Chapter 112
R.
Redress me, Mother, and eke me chastise!
For certainly my Father's chastising I dare not abiden in no wise, So hideous is his full reckoning.
Mother! of whom our joy began to spring, Be ye my judge, and eke my soule's leach;* *physician For ay in you is pity abounding To each that will of pity you beseech.
S.
Sooth is it that He granteth no pity Withoute thee; for G.o.d of his goodness Forgiveth none, *but it like unto thee;* *unless it please He hath thee made vicar and mistress thee*
Of all this world, and eke governess Of heaven; and represseth his justice After* thy will; and therefore in witness *according to He hath thee crowned in so royal wise.
T.
Temple devout! where G.o.d chose his wonning,* *abode From which, these misbeliev'd deprived be, To you my soule penitent I bring; Receive me, for I can no farther flee.
With thornes venomous, O Heaven's Queen!
For which the earth accursed was full yore, I am so wounded, as ye may well see, That I am lost almost, it smart so sore!
V.
Virgin! that art so n.o.ble of apparail,* *aspect That leadest us into the highe tow'r Of Paradise, thou me *wiss and counsail* *direct and counsel*
How I may have thy grace and thy succour; All have I been in filth and in errour, Lady! *on that country thou me adjourn,* *take me to that place*
That called is thy bench of freshe flow'r, There as that mercy ever shall sojourn.
X.
Xpe thy Son, that in this world alight, Upon a cross to suffer his pa.s.sioun, And suffer'd eke that Longeus his heart pight,* *pierced And made his hearte-blood to run adown; And all this was for my salvatioun: And I to him am false and eke unkind, And yet he wills not my d.a.m.nation; *This thank I you,* succour of all mankind! *for this I am indebted to you*
Y.
Ysaac was figure of His death certain, That so farforth his father would obey, That him *ne raughte* nothing to be slain; *he cared not*
Right so thy Son list as a lamb to dey:* *die Now, Lady full of mercy! I you pray, Since he his mercy 'sured me so large, Be ye not scant, for all we sing and say, That ye be from vengeance alway our targe.* *s.h.i.+eld, defence
Z.
Zachary you calleth the open well That washed sinful soul out of his guilt; Therefore this lesson out I will to tell, That, n'ere* thy tender hearte, we were spilt.** *were it not for Now, Lady brighte! since thou canst and wilt, *destroyed, undone*
Be to the seed of Adam merciable;* *merciful Bring us unto that palace that is built To penitents that be *to mercy able!* *fit to receive mercy*
Explicit.* *The end
Notes to Chaucer's A. B. C.
1. Chaucer's A. B. C. -- a prayer to the Virgin, in twenty three verses, beginning
2. La Priere De Nostre Dame: French, "The Prayer of Our Lady."
3. Thieves seven: i.e. the seven deadly sins
4. Mary's name recalls the waters of "Marah" or bitterness (Exod. xv. 23), or the prayer of Naomi in her grief that she might be called not Naomi, but "Mara" (Ruth i. 20). Mary, however, is understood to mean "exalted."
5. A typical representation. See The Prioress's Tale, third stanza.
6. The reference evidently is to Luke i. 38 -- "Ecce ancilla Domini," ("Behold the handmaid of the Lord") the Virgin's humble answer to Gabriel at the Annunciation.
7. "Xpe" represents the Greek letters chi rho epsilon, and is a contraction for "Christe."
8. According to tradition, the soldier who struck the Saviour to the heart with his spear was named Longeus, and was blind; but, touching his eyes by chance with the mingled blood and water that flowed down the shaft upon his hands, he was instantly restored to sight.
9. "In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness" (Zech. xiii. 1).
A GOODLY BALLAD OF CHAUCER.
MOTHER of nurture, best belov'd of all, And freshe flow'r, to whom good thrift G.o.d send Your child, if it l.u.s.t* you me so to call, *please *All be I* unable myself so to pretend, *although I be To your discretion I recommend My heart and all, with ev'ry circ.u.mstance, All wholly to be under your governance.
Most desire I, and have and ever shall, Thinge which might your hearte's ease amend Have me excus'd, my power is but small; Nathless, of right, ye oughte to commend My goode will, which fame would entend* *attend, strive To do you service; for my suffisance* *contentment Is wholly to be under your governance.
Mieux un in heart which never shall apall, Ay fresh and new, and right glad to dispend My time in your service, what so befall, Beseeching your excellence to defend My simpleness, if ignorance offend In any wise; since that mine affiance Is wholly to be under your governance.
Daisy of light, very ground of comfort, The sunne's daughter ye light, as I read; For when he west'reth, farewell your disport!
By your nature alone, right for pure dread Of the rude night, that with his *boistous weed* *rude garment*
Of darkness shadoweth our hemisphere, Then close ye, my life's lady dear!
Dawneth the day unto his kind resort, And Phoebus your father, with his streames red, Adorns the morrow, consuming the sort* *crowd Of misty cloudes, that would overlade True humble heartes with their mistihead.* *dimness, mistiness New comfort adaws,* when your eyen clear *dawns, awakens Disclose and spread, my life's lady dear.
Je voudrais* -- but the greate G.o.d disposeth, *I would wish And maketh casual, by his Providence, Such thing as manne's fraile wit purposeth, All for the best, if that your conscience Not grudge it, but in humble patience It receive; for G.o.d saith, withoute fable, A faithful heart ever is acceptable.
Cauteles* whoso useth gladly, gloseth;** *cautious speeches To eschew such it is right high prudence; **deceiveth What ye said ones mine heart opposeth, That my writing j.a.pes* in your absence *jests, coa.r.s.e stories Pleased you much better than my presence: Yet can I more; ye be not excusable; A faithful heart is ever acceptable.
Quaketh my pen; my spirit supposeth That in my writing ye will find offence; Mine hearte welketh* thus; anon it riseth; *withers, faints Now hot, now cold, and after in fervence; That is amiss, is caus'd of negligence, And not of malice; therefore be merciable; A faithful heart is ever acceptable.
L'Envoy.
Forthe, complaint! forth, lacking eloquence; Forth little letter, of enditing lame!
I have besought my lady's sapience On thy behalfe, to accept in game Thine inability; do thou the same.
Abide! have more yet! *Je serve Joyesse!* *I serve Joy*
Now forth, I close thee in holy Venus' name!
Thee shall unclose my hearte's governess.
Notes To a Goodly Ballad Of Chaucer
1. This elegant little poem is believed to have been addressed to Margaret, Countess of Pembroke, in whose name Chaucer found one of those opportunities of praising the daisy he never lost. (Transcriber's note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was not the author of this poem)
2. Mieux un in heart which never shall apall: better one who in heart shall never pall -- whose love will never weary.