The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes A literal reprint of the earliest complete copy (1517) with variant readings from the editions of 1509, 1554, and 1555 together with introduction notes, glossary, and indexes: By William Edward Mead |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVIII. |
Of the dolorous / and lowly dyfputacyon bytwene la
bell Pucell and graunde Amoure. Ca. xviii.
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| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIIII. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLII. |
| XLIIII. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
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Of the dolorous / and lowly dyfputacyon bytwene la
bell Pucell and graunde Amoure. Ca. xviii.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes |  |
XVIII. Of the dolorous / and lowly dyfputacyon bytwene la bell Pucell and graunde Amoure. Ca. xviii.
77
Councell and I / than rose full quyckely
And made vs redy / on our waye to walke
In your clenly wede / apparayled proprely
What I wolde saye / I dyde vnto hym talke
Tyll on his boke / he began to calke
How the sonne entred was in Gemyne
And eke Dyane / full of mutabylyte
And made vs redy / on our waye to walke
In your clenly wede / apparayled proprely
What I wolde saye / I dyde vnto hym talke
Tyll on his boke / he began to calke
How the sonne entred was in Gemyne
And eke Dyane / full of mutabylyte
Entred the Crabbe / her propre mancyon
Than ryght amyddes / of the dragons heed
And Venus / and she made coniuncyon
Frome her combust waye / she hadde her so sped
She had no let / that was to be dredde
The assured ayre / was depaynted clere
With golden beames / of fayre Phebus spere
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And Venus / and she made coniuncyon
Frome her combust waye / she hadde her so sped
She had no let / that was to be dredde
The assured ayre / was depaynted clere
With golden beames / of fayre Phebus spere
Than forth so went / good counceyll and I
At .vi. at clocke / vnto a garden fayre
By musykes toure / walled most goodly
Where la bell pucell / vsed to repayre
In the swete mornynge / for to take the ayre
Amonge the floures / of aromatyke fume
The maysty ayre / to exyle and consume
At .vi. at clocke / vnto a garden fayre
By musykes toure / walled most goodly
Where la bell pucell / vsed to repayre
In the swete mornynge / for to take the ayre
Amonge the floures / of aromatyke fume
The maysty ayre / to exyle and consume
And at the gate / we mette the portresse
That was ryght gentyll / and called curteysy
Whiche salued vs / with wordes of mekenesse
And axed vs / the veraye cause and why
Of our comynge / to the gardeyne sothely
Truely sayde we / for nothynge but well
A lytell to speke / with la bell pucell
That was ryght gentyll / and called curteysy
Whiche salued vs / with wordes of mekenesse
And axed vs / the veraye cause and why
Of our comynge / to the gardeyne sothely
Truely sayde we / for nothynge but well
A lytell to speke / with la bell pucell
Truely quod she / in the garden grene
Of many a swete / and soundry floure
She maketh a garlonde / that is veraye shene
With trueloues / wrought in many a coloure
Replete with swetenes / and dulcet odoure
And all alone / withouten company
Amyddes an herber / she sytteth plesaunty
Of many a swete / and soundry floure
She maketh a garlonde / that is veraye shene
With trueloues / wrought in many a coloure
Replete with swetenes / and dulcet odoure
And all alone / withouten company
Amyddes an herber / she sytteth plesaunty
Now stande you styll / for a lytell space
I wyll lette her / of you haue knowlegynge
A remedy swete lady / of my herte
It is youre owne / it can nothynge asterte
And ryght anone / she went to her grace
Tellynge her than / how we were comynge
To speke with her / gretely desyrynge
Truely she sayde / I am ryght well contente
Of thyer comynge / to knowe the hole entent
I wyll lette her / of you haue knowlegynge
A remedy swete lady / of my herte
It is youre owne / it can nothynge asterte
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Tellynge her than / how we were comynge
To speke with her / gretely desyrynge
Truely she sayde / I am ryght well contente
Of thyer comynge / to knowe the hole entent
Then good curteysy / without taryenge
Came vnto vs / with all her dylygence
Prayenge vs / to take our entrynge
And come vnto the ladyes presence
To tell your erande / to her excellence
Than in we went / to the gardyn gloryous
Lyke to a place / of pleasure moost solacyous
Came vnto vs / with all her dylygence
Prayenge vs / to take our entrynge
And come vnto the ladyes presence
To tell your erande / to her excellence
Than in we went / to the gardyn gloryous
Lyke to a place / of pleasure moost solacyous
With flora paynted / and wrought curyously
In dyuers knottes / of meruaylons gretenes
Rampande Lyons / stode vp wondersly
Made all of herbes / with dulcet swetenes
With many dragons / of meruaylous lykenes
Of dyuers floures / made full craftely
By flora couloured / with colours sundry
In dyuers knottes / of meruaylons gretenes
Rampande Lyons / stode vp wondersly
Made all of herbes / with dulcet swetenes
With many dragons / of meruaylous lykenes
Of dyuers floures / made full craftely
By flora couloured / with colours sundry
Amyddes the garden / so moche delectably
There was an herber / fayre and quadrante
To paradyse / ryght well comparable
Sette all aboute / with floures flagraunt
And in the myddle / there was resplendysshaune
A dulcet sprynge / and meruaylons fountayne
Of golde and asure / made all certayne
There was an herber / fayre and quadrante
To paradyse / ryght well comparable
Sette all aboute / with floures flagraunt
And in the myddle / there was resplendysshaune
A dulcet sprynge / and meruaylons fountayne
Of golde and asure / made all certayne
In wonderfull / and curyous symylytude
There stode a dragon / of fyne golde so pure
Vpon his tayle / of myghty fortytude
Wrethed and skaled all with asure
Hauynge thre hedes / dyuers ln fygure
Whiche in a bath / of the syluer grette
Spouted the water / that was so dulcette
There stode a dragon / of fyne golde so pure
Vpon his tayle / of myghty fortytude
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Hauynge thre hedes / dyuers ln fygure
Whiche in a bath / of the syluer grette
Spouted the water / that was so dulcette
Besyde whiche fountayne / the most fayre lady
La bell pucell / was gayly syttynge
Of many floures / fayre and ryally
A goodly chaplet / she was in makynge
Her heer was downe / so clerely shynynge
Lyke to the golde / late puryfyde with fyre
Her heer was bryght / as the drawen wyre
La bell pucell / was gayly syttynge
Of many floures / fayre and ryally
A goodly chaplet / she was in makynge
Her heer was downe / so clerely shynynge
Lyke to the golde / late puryfyde with fyre
Her heer was bryght / as the drawen wyre
Lyke to a lady / for to be ryght trewe
She ware a fayre / and goodly garment
Of most fyue veluet / all of Indy blewe
With armynes powdred / bordred at the vent
On her fayre handes / as was conuenyent
A payre of gloues / ryght sclender and soft
In approchynge nere / I dyde beholde her oft
She ware a fayre / and goodly garment
Of most fyue veluet / all of Indy blewe
With armynes powdred / bordred at the vent
On her fayre handes / as was conuenyent
A payre of gloues / ryght sclender and soft
In approchynge nere / I dyde beholde her oft
And whan that I came / before her presence
Vnto the grounde / I dyde knele adowne
Sayenge O lady / moost fayre of excellence
O sterre so clere / of vertuous renonwne
Whose beaute fayre / in euery realme and towne
Indued with grace / and also goodnes
Dame fame the her selfe / dooth euermore expresse
Amoure.Vnto the grounde / I dyde knele adowne
Sayenge O lady / moost fayre of excellence
O sterre so clere / of vertuous renonwne
Whose beaute fayre / in euery realme and towne
Indued with grace / and also goodnes
Dame fame the her selfe / dooth euermore expresse
Please it your grace / for to gyue audyence
Vnto my wofull / and pytous complaynt
How feruent loue / without resystence
My carefull herte / hath made lowe and faynte
81
your beaute truely / hath me fettred faste
Without youre helpe / my lyfe is nerehande past
Pucell.
Stande vp quod she / I meruayle of this cace
What sodayne loue / hath you so arayde
With so grete payne / youre herte to enbrace
And why for me / ye shoulde be so dysmayde
As of your lyfe / ye nede not to be afrayde
For ye of me / now haue no greter awe
But whan ye lyste / ye maye your loue withdrawe
Amoure.
Than stode I vp / and ryght so dyde she
Alas I sayde than / my herte is so sette
That it is youres / it maye none other be
Yourselfe hath caught it in so sure a nette
That yf that I maye not / your fauour gette
No doubte it is / the grete payne of loue
Maye not aswage / tyll deth it remoue
Pucell.
Truely quod she / I am obedyent
Vnto my frendes / whiche do me fo guyde
They shall me rule / as is conuenyent
In the snare of loue / I wyll nothynge slyde
My chaunce or fortune / I wyll yet abyde
I thanke you / for your loue ryght humbly
But I your cause / can nothynge remedy
Amoure.
Alas madame / yf I haue enterprysed
A thynge to hye truely / for my degre
All that causes / whiche I haue commysed
Hath ben on fortunes gentyll vnyte
Trustynge truely / that she wolde fauour me
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Youre humble seruaunte / and not me refuse
Pucell.
Ha ha / what vayleth all your flatery
Your fayned wordes / shall not me appese
To make myne herte / to enclyne inwardly
For I myselfe / now do nothynge suppose
But for to proue me / you flater and glose
You shall not dye / as longe as you speke
There is no loue / can cause your herte to breke
Amoure
I wolde madame / ye hadde prrrogatyue
To knewe the preuyte / of my perfyte mynde
How all in payne / I lede my wofull lyue
Than as I trowe / ye wolde not be vnkynde
But that some grace / I myght in you fynde
To cause myne herte / whiche you fetred sure
With brennynge cheynes / suche wo to endure
Pucell.
By veraye reason / I maye gyue Iugement
That it is guyse / of you euerychone
To fayne you seke / with subtyll argumente
Whan to youre lady / ye lyst to make youre mone
But of you true / is there fewe or none
For all your payne / and wordes eloquent
With dame repentaunce / I wyll not be shent
Amoure.
O swete madame / now all my desteny
Vnhap and happy / vpon you doth growe
Yf that you call me vnto your mercy
Of all happy the most happy I trowe
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And yf ye lyste / so me than to forsake
Of all vnhappy / none shall be my make
Pucell.
Your fortune on me / is not more applyed
Than vpon other / for my mynde is fre
I haue your purpose / oft ynoughe denyed
You knowe your answere / now certaynte
What nede your wordes / of curyosyte
Wowe here nomore / for you shall not spede
Go loue an other / where ye maye haue mede
Amoure.
That shall I not / thoughe that I contynewe
All my lyfe / in payne and heuynes
I shall not chaunge you / for none other newe
You are my lady / you are my maysteres
Whome I shall serue / with all my gentylnes
Exyle hym neuer / frome your herte so dere
Whiche vnto his / hath sette you most nere
Pucel.
The mynde of men / chaungeth as the mone
Yf you mete one / whiche is fayre and bryght
Ye loue her best / tyll he se ryght soone
An other fayrer / vnto your owne syght
Vnto her than / youre mynde is tourned ryght
Truely your loue / thoughe ye make it straunge
I knowe full well / ye wyll it often chaunge
Amoure.
Alas madame / now the bryght lodes sterre
Of my true herte / where euer I go or ryde
Thoughe that my body / be frome you aferr
Yet my herte onely / shall with you abyde
Whan than you lyste / ye maye for me prouyde
84
Naye truly / it can nothynge be myne
For I therof / take no possessyon
Your hert is your / by substancyall lyne
It is not in my domynacyon
Loue where ye lyst / at euery season
Your hert is fre / I do not it accepte
It is your owne / I haue it neuer kepte
Amoure.
Alas madame / ye maye saye as ye lyste
With your beaute / ye toke myne herte in snare
Youre louely lokes / I coude not resyst
Your vertuous maner / encreaseth my care
That of all Ioye / I am deuoyde and bare
I fe you ryght often / as I am a slepe
And whan I wake / do sygh with teres depe
Pucell.
So grete deceyte / amonge men there is
That harde it is / to fynde one full stable
Ye are so subtyll / and so false ywys
Youre grete deceyte / is nothynge commendable
In storyes olde / it is well probable
How many ladyes / hath ben ryght falsely
With men deceyued / yll and subtylly
Amoure.
O good madame / though that they abused
Them to theyr ladyes / in theyr grete deceyte
Yet am I true / let me not be refused
Ye haue me taken / with so fayre a bayte
That ye shall neuer / out of my conceyte
I can not wrynche / by no wyle nor Croke
My herte is fast / vpon so sure a hoke
Pucell.
Ye so sayde they / tyll that they hadde theyr wyll
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For men saye well / but they thynke full yll
Though outwarde swetenes / your tōge doth enlarge
Yet of your hert / I neuer can haue charge
For men do loue / as I am ryght sure
Now one now other / after theyr pleasure
Amoure.
All that madame / I knewe ryght perfytely
Some men there be / of that condycyon
That them delyte / often in nouelry
And many also / loue perfeccyon
I cast all suche / nouelles in abieccyon
My loue is sette / vpon a perfyte grounde
No falsed in me / truely shall be founde
Pucell.
Ye saye full well / yf ye meane the same
But I in you / can haue no confydence
I thynke ryght well / that it is no game
To loue vnloued / with percynge influence
You shall in me fynde / no suche neclygence
To graunt you loue / for ye are vnthryfty
As two or thre / to me doth specyfy
Amoure.
Was neuer louer / without enmyes thre
As enuy malyce / and perturbaunce
Theyr tonges are poyson / vnto amyte
What man on lyue / can vse suche gouernaunce
To attayne the fauoure / withouten varyaunce
Of euery persone / but ryght pryuely
Behynd his backe / some sayth vnhappely
Pucell.
Trouthe it is / but yet in this cace
Your loue and myne / is full ferre asondre
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Yf I drede you / it is therof no wondre
With my frendes / I am so sore kepte vnder
I dare not loue / but as they accorde
They thynke to wedde me / to a myghtylorde
Amoure.
I knowe madame / that your frendes all
Vnto me sure / wyll be contraryous
But what for that / your selfe in specyall
Remembre there is / no loue so Ioyous
As is youre owne to you most precyous
Wyll you gyue your youthe / and your flourynge aege
To them / agaynst your mynde in maryage
Pucell.
Agaynst my mynde / of that were I lothe
To wed for fere / as them to obey
Yet had I leuer / they were somwhat wrothe
For I my selfe / do bere the locke and kaye
Yet of my mynde / and wyll do many adaye
Myne owne I am / what that I lyste to do
I stande vntyed / there is no Ioye therto
Amoure.
O swete lady / the good perfyte sterre
O my true herte / take ye now pyte
Thynke on my payne / whiche am tofore you here
With youre swete eyes / beholde you and se
How thought and wo / by grete extremyte
Hath chaunged my hue / in to pale and wanne
It was not so / whan I to loue began
Pucell.
So me thynke / it doth ryght well appere
By your colour / that loue hath done you wo
Your heuy countenaunce / and your dolefull chere
87
In so short a space / I meruayle moche also
That ye wolde loue me / so sure in certayne
Before ye knewe / that I wolde loue agayne
Amoure.
My good dere herte / it is no meruayle why
Your beaute clere / and louely lokes swete
My hert dyde perce / with loue so sodaynly
At the fyrste tyme / that I dyde you mete
In the olde temple / whan I dyde you grete
Youre beaute my herte / so surely assayde
That syth that tyme / it hath to you obayde
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Of the dolorous / and lowly dyfputacyon bytwene la
bell Pucell and graunde Amoure. Ca. xviii.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes | |