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76. Complainte de Saint Vallentin Garenson Je voy que chascun amoureux Ce veult ce jour apparier. Je voy chascun estre joieulx. Je voy le temps renouveller. Je voy chanter, rire et dancer, Mais je me voy seul en tristesse, Pour ce que j’ay perdu mon per — Non pas per, mais dame et maistresse. J’en ay perdu ma contenance. J’en ay perdu toute ma joye. J’en suis deserté de plaisance, Trop plus que dire ne pourroie. J’en suis quelque part que je soye Triste, dolent, oultre mesure. J’en suis tel que mourir vouldroie Quant je voy ma douleur si dure. Mourir, voire, certainement, Car j’ay perdu ma plaisant vie, Mon espoir, mon advancement, De tout bien ma droicte partie. J’é tant perdu que j’entroublie Tout plaisir et toute liesce, Et toute plaisant compaignie Me tourne souvent a destresse. Jamais ne feray que languir. Plourer sera mon reconfort Quant je pourray estre a loisir. Je ne requerray que la mort. Mon cuer et moy sommes d’acort De vivre ainsi piteusement. Je ne quier que haster bien fort La mort pour mon alegement. Plourés pour moy, je vous en pri, Tous cueurs qui aymez loyaument. Mais assez plus, je vous suppli, Plourés tres douloureusement Ma dame et son tres beau corps gent Que la mort a fait definer Par son dart oultrageusement, Que mon cuer mauldit sans cesser. Helas! il n’estoit pas saison Si tost de son department. S’a bien esté contre raison. Mais il ne peut estre autrement, Car, quant a moy tant seulement, C’estoit tout mon bien en ce monde Que de la servir humblement, Seule sans nulle autre seconde. Sans plus, telle doulce pensee Me tenoit en ris et en jeux. Toute grace m’estoit donnee D’en estre bien fort amoureux. Je m’en tenoie plus eureux Cent fois que dire ne sauroye Quant de ses doulz beaux rians yeulx Ung doulx regart sans plus avoye. Plus me valoit l’amer ainsi, En aucune bonne esperance D’avoir en aucun temps merci, Que d’estre roy de toute France. C’estoit la seule soustenance De tout le bien de ma jeunesce. Pour la servir dés mon enfance Print mon cuer l’amoureuse adresce. Or voy bien que j’ay tout perdu Et si ne se peut amender, Dont je me vy si esperdu Que nul ne le pourroit penser De dire que je peuse amer Aprés elle parfaictement. Mon ceur ne se peut acorder A le desirer nullement. Aussi croy je bien, par ma foy, Qu’ame ne le prendroit en gré, Car mon cuer vouldroit, a par soy, Choisir selon le temps passé, Et jamais ne seroit amé De nulle qui approuchast d’elle Se trop grant debonnaireté Ne se mesloit de la querelle. Ainsi seul et plain de douleur Demourrai je, le voy trop bien. Jamais ne plaisir ne doulceur N’aprouchera a moy de rien. Je serai de simple maintien Comme tout dolent et honteux. Ne nulle ne me vouldra bien De qui je puisse valoir mieulx.       Ainsi que je me complaingnoie, Je voy Saint Valentin venir, Venant a moy la droicte voye. Aussi que pour moy resjouir Mais pour mieulx son fait acomplir, Le dieu amoureux admena, Qui par la main me vint saisir Et doulcement me raisonna En moy disant, «Loyaulx amis, Te veulx tu de tous poins deffaire. Tu scez que pieça t’es submis Soubz ma puissance debonnaire, Mais celle qui te fist faire Ne te peut plus reconforter. Pour ce te vueil a moy attraire Et te vueil bon conseil donner. «C’est que choisissés de nouvel Une dame gente et jolie. Et a ce faire je t’appel Et Saint Valentin te deprie. Aussi Loyaulté le t’octrie, Car tu as loyaulment servi Jusqu’en fin ta dame et amie A qui je t’avoye asservi.» «Helas! comme se peut il faire, Se lui dis je piteusement, Qu’a nulle autre ne puisse plaire Pour servir amoureusement?» Mais Amours, qui si puissamment Si garist mon cuer en jeunesce, Respont qu’i ne veult nullement Que je demeure sans maistresse. «Et comment te veulx tu deffendre, Dist il, contre ma voulenté? Ne le fay plus, mais vien toy rendre En tresgrant debonnaireté A la non pareille beaulté Qu’on peut en ce monde choisir, A qui tu seras presenté De moy pour l’amer et servir.» «Helas! sire, pardonnez moy, Et me laissez souffrir ma peine. Je ne quier qu’estre en requoy Pour regretter ma souveraine, De qui ma plaisance mondaine M’estoit venue entierement, Car jamais liesse certaine Ne puis avoir aucunement. «Plus me plaist plaindre et souspirer Et regretter mon grant dommage Que d’ouir rire et chanter Ne veoir gens de joieux couraige. Je ne quier autre avantaige Qu’en ce point attendre la mort, Puis que la belle, bonne et sage, J’ai perdu qu’amoye si fort, «Et que je vueil tousjours amer Aussi bien morte comme vive. Ne ja ne la quier oublier Pour nulle assemblee ou j’arrive, Et pour ce ainsi vers vous estrive. Si vous pri qu’il ne vous desplaise Se par vous ma douleur n’eschive, Mais me souffrez en ma mesaise. «Car achoison ne puis avoir Que de languir en desconfort, Ne je ne puis apparcevoir Que mon cuer en soit en discord. Certes ce seroit a grant tort Qu’il fust jamais nul jour actains De plaisir ne de joieulx port Quant j’ay perdu tout ce que j’aims.» «Au moins seuffre que te conseille, Puis dy ce qu’il te plaira. Viens vers celle dont la merveille Volle tousjours et volera; En fait par tout les lieux tresra Ou on congnoist sa renommee. Car ta mort se abregera, Ou grace t’en sera donnee. «Car en voyant son doulx acueil, Son regart de doulce simplesce, Il te souvendra du sercueil Que tient ta premiere princesse. Ainsi acroistra ta destresse Du mal qu’i te convient porter, Ou tu choisiras la richesse De mon service recouvrer. «Accorde moy pour mon plaisir Ceste requeste a tout le moins. Acomplis en ce mon desir, Je le te pri a jointes mains. Et pour te faire plus contrains Te commande a ainsi le faire Sur peine d’en estre ratains De ma seigneurie contraire.» «Sire, je ne sçay plus que dire. Soit pour esjouir ou pour douloir, Ou pour souffrir mort ou martire, Je feray vers vous mon devoir, D’aler tout a vostre vouloir Vers celle dont faictes devis, Qu’a plain ce peut apparcevoir De beaulté le droit paradis.» Adonc me vins Amours monstrer Une dame tant belle et gente Comme l’en pourroit deviser A y mettre toute s’entente. Et lors m’a dit que je m’assente A la servir tant seulement Comme le feu de toute rente Et que mieulx ne puis nullement. Et quant je la vy si tres belle, Si jeune et si bien renommee, Et que chascun bonne nouvelle Disoit de sa beaulté louee, J’en fu en trop forte pensee, Car aucunement ressembloit A la belle qu’avoye amee, Pour quoy mon cuer tant se douloit. Car tant avoit belle maniere Et le regart doulx et riant, Si doulce et si joieuse chiere Et tant par estoit bien duisant Que chascun estoit desirant En son pouoir de bien en dire. Adonc congneu tout maintenant Qu’elle faisoit trop a eslire. Au devant de toutes les belles Qui sont humaines a present, Entre dames et demoiselles, La prisoit on tout oultrement. Chascun disoit communement «Ceste est de tous biens acomplie,» Ne nul ne la voit vivement, Se croy je, qu’Amours ne le lie. A peine l’eusse je peu croire. C’est la merveille de ce monde. Nulluy ne se pourroit retraire D’amer sa beaulté blanche et blonde. Le bien d’elle par tout suronde. C’est le tresor d’amour mondaine. Qui n’auroit guere que une onde, Si l’en feroit il souveraine. Adoncques ne peus je contredire D’Amour la treshaulte puissance. De grant piece ne peuz mot dire. De pasmer fus en grant doubtance Pour cause de la grant muance Que je trouvay soubdainement. Au fort je reprins contenance Et m’affermay aucunement. Je devins aussi amoureux Comme parfaictement contraint De ses tresgrans biens gracieux Qui m’ont tout droit au cuer ataint. Et pour ce sans nul penser faint Le serviray toute ma vie, Priant pour celle dont j’ay plaint Si longuement la departie. Or vueille Amours sa grace estandre Vers moy par son aide piteuse Tant qu’il lui face bien entendre Ma voulenté tresamoureuse Qui n’eust esté jamais joieuse Se ne fust par la doulceur d’elle, Que tous temps est tant amoureuse Qu’en acroissant se renouvelle. Et qu’il plaise a son doulx vouloir Recueillir en gré mon service, Car par autre ne puis avoir Grace qui tout bien acomplisse. De tout ennuy oultre je ysse Seulement par son reconfort. Par telle fault que je guerisse Ou que je reçoive la mort. Amours l’a ainsi commandé A qui vueil et doy obeir, Et sa non pareille beaulté M’i a fait du tout consentir. Pour ce suis sien sans departir Entierement jusqu’a la fin, Ainsi lui prometz sans mentir Ce jour de la Saint Valentin.

76. Granson’s Saint Valentine’s Complaint I see that everyone in love Wants to be with his partner today. I see everyone being joyous. I see that springtime has arrived. I see singing, laughter, and dancing, But I see myself alone in sadness, For I have lost my companion — Not companion, but my lady and mistress. Because of this, I have lost my composure. Because of this, I have lost all my joy. Because of this, I am bereft of pleasure Much more than I could ever say. Because of this, wherever I am, I am sad, grieving, beyond measure. I’m in such a state that I would like to die When I see my grief so harsh. To die, indeed, certainly, For I have lost my pleasing life, My hope, everything I’ve gained, My proper share of every good. I have lost so much that I forget Every pleasure and happiness, And all pleasant company Often turns into distress for me. All I will ever do is languish. Crying will be my consolation When I am able to be at leisure. I will seek nothing except death. My heart and I are in agreement To live thus piteously. All that I seek is quickly to hasten Death, in order to bring relief. Weep for me, I beg you, All hearts that love loyally, But even more, I beseech you, Weep very sorrowfully For my lady and her beautiful gracious self Whom death has brought to an end With its dart, unconscionably, Which my heart curses without cease. Alas, it was not the time So soon for her departure. It was totally contrary to reason. But it cannot be otherwise. For, as for me and me alone, My only good in this world Was to serve her humbly, Her alone, without any other. All by itself, so sweet a thought Kept me in laughter and in play. Every grace was given to me To be greatly in love with her. I considered myself more fortunate A hundred times more than I could say When from her fair sweet laughing eyes I had a sweet look and nothing more. It was worth more for me to love her thus, In no great hope at all Of ever having mercy from her, Than to be the king of all of France. These were the only grounds For all the good in my youth. In order to serve her since my childhood My heart took the course of love. Now I see I have lost everything And that it cannot be restored, For which I see myself so lost That no one could ever think Of saying that I could ever love Anyone completely after her. My heart cannot consent To desire it in any way. I also believe, by my faith, That a soul would not accept it willingly, For my heart would want, for itself, To choose according to time past, And it would never be loved By any woman who came close to her If too great graciousness Were not involved in the case. Thus alone and full of grief I will remain, I see it too well. Never will pleasure or gentleness Come near to me at all. I will be of plain demeanor Like one who is grieving and ashamed. Never will any woman want me From whom I could be better off.       While I was lamenting thus, I saw Saint Valentine approach, Coming directly towards me. Also in order to cheer me up But to better accomplish his goal, He brought along the God of Love, Who came and seized me by the hand And he addressed me gently, Saying to me, “Loyal friend, Do you want to completely destroy yourself? You know that you submitted long ago To my gracious power, But she who made you do so Can no longer comfort you. Therefore I wish to draw you close And I want to give you some good advice. “That is, that you choose anew A lady gracious and pretty. And I call upon you to do this, And Saint Valentine begs it of you. Loyalty also grants it to you, For you served loyally, Until the end, your lady and love To whom I had made you subject.” “Alas, how can it be,” I said to him piteously, “That I might please any other woman In order to serve in love?” But Love, which so powerfully Watched over my heart in my youth, Replies that it does not wish at all That I remain without a mistress. “And how do you wish to defend yourself,” He said, “Against my will? Do so no more, but come surrender In great graciousness To the beauty without peer That one can find in this world, To whom you will be presented By me, in order to love and serve her.” “Alas, lord, pardon me, And allow me to suffer my pain. All that I seek is to remain secluded In order to mourn my sovereign lady, From whom my worldly pleasure Came to me in its entirety, For never assured happiness Can I have in any way. “It pleases me more to lament and sigh And to mourn for my great loss Than to hear laughter and singing And to see people with joyous hearts. I don’t seek any other benefit Than in this state to await death, Since I have lost the fair, good, and wise one Whom I loved so strongly, “And whom I want always to love Just as well dead as alive. I do not seek to forget her For any acquaintance that I might make, And that’s why I struggle against you thus. I beg you that it not displease you If through you I do not escape my grief, But allow me to remain in my distress. “For I can have no reason Except to languish in distress, Nor can I see that my heart Is in any way opposed. Surely this would be very wrong That it were ever overtaken By pleasure or by joyous conduct When I have lost all that I love.” “At least allow me to advise you, Then say whatever you please. Come to the one of whom the wonder Flies constantly, and will in the future; Indeed, it will go in every place Where one knows her reputation. For either your death will be hastened, Or you will be granted grace. “For upon seeing her gentle welcome, Her look of sweet simplicity, You will remember the coffin That holds your first princess. Thus will increase your distress From the pain that you are forced to bear, Or you will choose to receive The rich gifts of my service. “Grant me, for my pleasure, This request at very least. Accomplish my desire in this, I beseech you with joined hands. And in order to make you more obliged, I command you to do so On pain of being held A rebel to my rule.” “Lord, I no longer know what to say. Whether to rejoice or to grieve, Or to endure death or suffering, I will do my duty to you, To go according to your wish To her of whom you make mention, So that plainly can be seen The very paradise of beauty.” Then Love came and showed to me A lady as beautiful and gracious As anyone could ever describe In giving it all of his effort. And then he told me to agree To serve her exclusively Like the fief from which comes all wealth, And that I can do no better in any way. And when I saw her, so very beautiful, So young and of such good renown, And that everyone had good to say About her highly praised beauty, I thought very deeply about it, Because she somewhat resembled The beautiful one that I had loved For whom my heart was in such grief. For she had such a beautiful manner And so gentle and laughing a look, So sweet and joyous a countenance, And she was so well brought up That everyone was desirous To say good of her, as best he could. Thus I knew at once That she was very worthy to be chosen. Before all the beautiful women Who are alive at present, Among the ladies and the damsels, One valued her by far the most. Everyone said in common, “She is provided with every good.” Nor is there anyone who sees her in person, I think, whom Love does not bind. Hardly could I have believed it. She is the wonder of this world. No one would be able to refrain From loving her beauty, pale and blond. Her goodness extends everywhere. It is the treasure of earthly love. Whoever would have only a bit of it, Yet it would make her a sovereign. Therefore I could not oppose The very great power of Love. For a long time I could say no word. I was in great fear of fainting Because of the great change That I suddenly experienced. Finally I regained composure And steadied myself to some degree. I fell so deeply in love with her As one who was totally compelled By her great gracious virtues Which struck me directly in the heart. And therefore, without any hesitation, I will serve her all my life, Praying for her whose departure I have so long lamented. Now may Love please extend his grace Towards me, by means of his piteous aid, Until he make her understand My very loving will, Which would never have been joyous If it were not through her gentleness, Which is always so loving That in increasing it is renewed. And may it please her gentle wish To willingly accept my service, For from another I cannot get The grace that bestows every good. I escape from every annoyance Only by her comfort. By such a one I must be healed Or I must receive my death. Love has so commanded it, Whom I wish to and must obey, And her beauty without equal Has made me fully agree. Therefore I am hers, without exception, Entirely until the end. So I promise her without lying, On this day of the feast of Saint Valentine.

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