fol. 187rIncipit quidam cantus quem composuit frater
Thomas de Hales de ordine fratrum
minorumad instanciam cuiusdam puelle
Deo
dicate.
A mayde
Cristes
me bit
yornethat ich hire wurche a luve ron,
For-hwan
heo myhte
best ileorneto taken onother soth lefmon
That treowest
were of
alle berne,and best wyte cuthe
a
freo
wymmon.
Ich hire nule nowiht werne —ich hire wule teche as ic
con.
line5Mayde, her thu myht
biholdethis worldes luve nys bute o res,
And is byset so felevolde,vikel and frakel and wok and
les.
Theos theines
that
her weren boldebeoth aglyden so wyndes bles;
Under molde hi liggeth colde,and faleweth so doth
medewe gres.
Nis no mon iboren o lyvethat her may beon
studevest,
line10For her he haveth seorewen
ryve,ne tyt him never ro ne rest;
Toward his ende he hyeth blyve,and lutle hwile he her
ilest;
Pyne and deth him wile ofdryve
hwenne he weneth to libben best.
Nis non so riche, ne non so freo,that he ne schal
heonne sone away.
Ne may hit never his waraunt beogold ne seolver, vouh
ne gray;
line15Ne beo he no the swift, ne may he
fleo,ne weren his lif enne
day
—
Thus is thes world, as thu mayht seo,al so the
schadewe that glyt away.
This world fareth hwilynde:hwenne on cumeth, another
goth.
That wes bifore nu is
bihynde;that er was leof nu hit is loth.
Forthi he doth as the blyndethat in this world his
luve doth.
fol. 187vYe
mowen iseo the world aswynde —that
wouh goth forth, abak that soth.
line21Theo luve that ne may her
abyde,thu treowest hire myd muchel wouh
Al so hwenne hit schal toglide —hit is fals and
mereuh and frouh,
And fromward is uychon tide —hwile hit lesteth, is
seorewe inouh.
An ende, ne werie mon so syde,he schal todreosen so
lef on bouh.
line25Monnes luve nys buten o
stunde:nu he luveth, nu he is sad;
Nu he cumeth, nu wile he funde;
nu he is wroth, nu he is gled;
His luve is her and ek alunde;
nu he luveth sum that he er bed;
Nis he never treowe ifunde —that him tristeth, he
is amed!
Yf mon is riche of worldes weole,hit maketh his heorte
smerte and ake;
line30If he dret that me him
stele,thenne doth him pyne nyhtes wake.
Him waxeth thouhtes, monye and fele,hw he hit may
witen withuten sake.
An ende, hwat helpeth hit to hele?Al
Deth hit wile from him take.
Hwer is Paris and
Heleyne,that weren so bryht and feyre on bleo?
Amadas and Dideyne,
Tristram,
Yseude, and alle theo?
line35Ector with his scharpe
meyne,and Cesar riche of wordes
feo?
Heo beoth iglyden ut of the reyneso the schef
is of the cleo.
Hit is of heom al so hit nere —of heom me haveth wunder itold!
Nere hit reuthe for to heren
hw hi were with pyne aquold,
And hwat hi tholeden alyve here?
Al is heore hot iturnd to cold —
line40Thus is thes world of false
fere!
Fol he is the on hire is bold.
Theyh he were so riche monas
Henry ure kyng,
And al so veyr as Absalon,
that nevede on eorthe non evenyng,
Al were sone his prute agon —hit nere on ende wrth on
heryng!
Mayde, if thu wilnest after leofmon,ich teche the enne
treowe King.
line45A, swete, if thu iknowe
the gode thewes of thisse childe
—
He is feyr and bryht on heowe,of glede chere, of mode
mylde,
Of lufsum lost, of trueste treowe,freo of heort, of
wisdom wilde
—
Ne thurhte the never rewe,
myhtestu do the in his ylde!
He is ricchest mon of londe,so wide so mon speketh
with muth;
line50Alle heo beoth to his
honde,est and west, north and suth!
fol. 188rHenri, King of Engelonde,of
hym he halt and to hym buhth.
Mayde, to the he send his sonde,
and wilneth for to beo the cuth.
Ne byt he with the lond ne leode,vouh ne gray ne rencyan;
Naveth he therto none neode —he is riche and weli
man!
line55If thu him woldest luve
beodeand bycumen his leovemon,
He brouhte the to suche wedethat naveth king ne kayser
non!
Hwat spekestu of eny bolde
that wrouhte the wise Salomon
Of jaspe, of saphir, of merede golde,and of mony
onother ston?
Hit is feyrure of feolevolde —more than ich eu telle
con!
line60This bold,
mayde, the is bihoteif that thu bist
his leovemon.
Hit stont uppon a treowe mote
that hit never truke ne schal;
Ne may no mynur hire underwrote,
ne never false thene grundwal;
Tharinne is uich balewes bote,
blisse and joye, and gleo and gal!
This bold, mayde, is the bihote
and uych o blisse tharwythal.
line65Ther ne may no freond fleon other,ne non furleosen his iryhte; Ther nys hate, ne wreththe nouther,of prude ne of onde of none wihte. Alle heo schule wyth engles pleye,some and sauhte in heovene lyhte. Ne beoth heo, mayde, in gode weyethat wel luveth ure Dryhte?
Ne may no mon hine iseoal so he is in his mihte
line70That may withuten blisse
beo;hwanne he isihth ure Drihte,
His sihte is al joye and gleo!He is day withute
nyhte!
Nere he, mayde, ful seoly
that myhte wunye myd such a knyhte?
He haveth bitauht the o tresur
that is betere than gold other pel,
And bit the luke thine bur,and wilneth that thu hit
wyte wel.
line75Wyth theoves,
with reveres,
with lechurs,
thu most beo waker and snel.
Thu art swetture than eny flurhwile thu witest thene
kastel.
Hit is ymston of feor iboren —nys non betere under
heovene grunde;
He is tofore alle othre icoren;he heleth alle luve
wunde.
Wel were alyve iborenthat myhte wyten this ilke
stunde,
line80For habbe thu hine enes
forloren,
ne byth he never eft ifunde.
This ilke ston that ich the nemne“maydenhod” icleoped
is.
fol. 188vHit is o derewurthe
gemme;of alle othre, he berth that pris,
And bryngeth the withute wemmeinto the blysse of
paradis.
The hwile thu hyne witest under thine hemme,
thu ert swetture than
eny
spis.
line85Hwat spekstu of eny stone
that beoth in vertu
other in
grace
—
Of amatiste, of calcydone,
of lectorie
and tupace,
Of jaspe, of saphir, of sardone,smaragde, beril, and
crisopace?
Among
alle othre
ymstone,thes beoth deorre in uyche place!
Mayde, al so ich the tolde,the ymston of thi bur
line90He is betere an
hundred-foldethan alle theos in heore culur;
He is idon in heovene golde,and is ful of fyn amur.
Alle that myhte hine wite scholde;he schyneth so bryht
in heovene bur!
Hwen thu me dost in thine redefor the to cheose a
leofmon,
Ich wile don, as thu me bede,the beste that ich fynde
con;
line95Ne doth he, mayde, on uvele dedethat may cheose
of two that on,
And he wile, withute neode,that thet wurse the betere
let gon?
This rym, mayde, ich the sende,open and withute
sel.
Bidde ic that thu hit untrende,
and leorny bute bok uych del,
Herof that thu beo swithe hende,and tech hit other
maydenes wel:
line100Hwoso cuthe hit
to than ende,hit wolde him stonde
muchel stel.
Hwenne thu sittest in longynge,drauh the forth this
ilke wryt —
Mid swete stephne thu hit singe,and do al so hit the
byt.
To the he
haveth
send one gretynge:God Almyhti the beo myd,
And leve cumes to his brudthinge
heye in heovene ther he sit!
line105And yeve him god
endyngethat haveth iwryten this ilke wryt.
Amen.
fol. 187rHere begins a certain song which Brother Thomas of Hales of the order of Minorites composedat the request of a young girl dedicated to God.
A maid of Christ longingly asked meto make a love rune for her, From which she might best learnhow to take another true lover Who is truest of all men,and best able to protect a noblewoman. I won’t deny her at all —I will teach her as I am able.
line5Maid, here you may beholdthat worldly love is but madness, And is afflicted so many times over,fickle and vile and weak and false. These men who here were boldhave passed away like a gust of wind; Under earth they lie cold,and wither as does meadow grass.
There is no man born alivewho can here be steadfast, line10For here he has many sorrows,and he never attains peace or rest; Toward his end he hastens fast,and a short while he here endures; Suffering and death will drive him awaywhen he hopes to prosper best.
There’s none so rich, none so noble,that he won’t soon go from here. His insurance can never begold or silver, variegated or gray fur; line15However swift he is, he cannot flee,nor guard his life a single day — Thus is this world, as you may see,just like the shadow that glides away.
This world changes constantly:when one comes, another goes. He who was ahead is now behind;who once was beloved now is despised. Therefore he acts like the blind manwho in this world seeks his love. fol. 187vYou may see the world languish —while grief advances, truth retreats.
line21The love that may not here abide,you trust in it with much grief Until the time when it shall pass —it is false and unstable and weak, And unruly in every season —while it lasts, there’s plenty of sorrow. In the end, however man guards himself,he shall die like a leaf on bough.
line25Man’s love lasts but a moment:now he loves, now he is sated; Now he comes, now he will depart;now he is angry, now he is glad; His love is here and also elsewhere;now he loves some he formerly fought; He is never found to be true —whoever trusts him, he is mad!
If one is rich of worldly wealth,it makes his heart sting and ache; line30If he dreads someone will rob him,then worry keeps him awake at night. His thoughts grow, numerous and many,how he may protect it without sin. In the end, what good is it to hide it?Death will take it all from him.
Where are Paris and Helen,so beautiful and fair in face? Amadas and Idoine, Tristram,Isolde, and all those? line35Hector with his powerful strength,and Caesar rich of worldly wealth? They have vanished from the realmas the sheaf is cut by the scythe.
It is as if they never were —I’ve been told wonders of them! Isn’t it a pity to hearhow they were painfully killed, And what they suffered in life here?All their hot is turned to cold — line40Thus is this world of false appearance!Foolish is he who here is bold.
Although he were as powerful a manas Henry our king, And just as fair as Absolon,who never on earth had an equal, All too soon was his pride gone —in the end it wasn’t worth a herring! Maid, if you long for a lover,I’ll teach you about the one true King.
line45Ah, sweet, if you knewthe good qualities of this noble youth — He is fair and handsome in appearance,of glad face, of mild manner, Of lovely disposition, of true faith,noble of heart, strong of wisdom — You’d never regret itif you were to put yourself in his protection!
He is the richest man on earth,as far as men speak with mouths; line50Everything is at his command,east and west, north and south! fol. 188rHenry, King of England,holds power from him and bows to him. Maid, to you he sends his message,and desires to be known by you.
He asks from you neither lands nor people,nor fine furs or cloth; He has no need to do so —he’s a rich and prosperous man! line55If you would grant him loveand become his beloved, He would bring you to such a weddingas never had king or emperor!
What can you say of the castlethat the wise Solomon constructed Of jasper, of sapphire, of refined gold,and of many other gems? It is fairer by many times —more than I am able to tell you! line60This castle, maid, is promised to youif you become his beloved.
It stands upon a fine hillwhere it won’t ever fall; No miner may undermine it,or ever cause the foundation to give way; Therein is remedy for every sorrow,bliss and joy, and mirth and song! This castle, maid, is promised youand every bliss belonging to it.
line65There may no friend leave another,nor may any lose his rights; There isn’t hate, or anger either,for pride or envy against anyone. They all will play with angels,united and accorded in heaven’s light. Isn’t she, mayde, in a good waywho loves well our Lord?
No one is allowed to see himas he is in his power line70Who is without bliss;when he sees our Lord, His sight is full of joy and gladness!He is day without night! Were he not, maid, fully blessedwho might dwell with such a knight?
He has committed to you a treasurethat is better than gold or fine cloth, And bids you lock your bower,and desires that you guard it well. line75Against thieves, against robbers, against lechers,you must be alert and vigilant. You are sweeter than any flowerwhile you defend your castle.
It is the gemstone borne from afar —there’s none better under heaven; It is chosen before all others;it heals all love wounds. Fortunate are they born alivewho might keep this same condition, line80For once you have lost it,it is never again found.
This same stone that I describe to youis called “virginity.” fol. 188vIt is a precious gem;among all others, it bears the prize, And brings you without blemishinto the bliss of paradise. While you guard it under your skirt,you are sweeter than any spice.
line85What may you say of any stonethat abides in power or grace — Of amethyst, of chalcedony,of cock-stone and topaz, Of jasper, of sapphire, of sardonyx,emerald, beryl, and chrysoprase? Among all other gemstones,these are precious everywhere!
Maid, as I told you,the gemstone of your bower, line90He is better a hundredfoldthan all these in their colors; He is set in the gold of heaven,and is full of fin amour. All who’d know him ought to do so;he shines bright in heaven’s bower!
When you asked me for advicein your choosing of a lover, I will select, as you asked me,the best that I’m able to find; line95Does he not, maid, do an evil deedwho may choose one of two things, If he should, without need,pick the worse and neglect the better?
This poem, maid, I send to you,openly and without seal. I ask that you unroll it,and learn each part of it without book, So that you may be very expert in it,and teach it well to other maidens: line100Whoever knows it to the end,it would afford him much help.
When you sit in longing,draw forth this same writ — In a sweet voice sing it,and do everything as it directs you. To you he has sent a greeting:God Almighty be with you, And allow you to come to his bridal chamberhigh in heaven where he sits! line105And give to him a good endingwho has written this very writ. Amen.