Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 4
IV
Herein the Lover tells of Gladness:
A dame is she who, casting sadness
To the wild winds, doth nought but play
And carol through the livelong day.
The song of Gladness
E’en as I came within the close,
A glorious burst of song uprose;
For one, whose name was Gladness, loud
And clear-voiced sang amid the crowd750
Foregathered there; full well she knew
To modulate her tones with due
And gentle cadence, now to fall
And now to rise high over all.
Her note was clear as silver bell.
And, gently swaying, rose and fell
Her supple form, the while her feet
Kept measured time with perfect beat:
Dance and music
’Mid her companions ever first
Her voice was into song to burst,760
For in that art divine did she
Exceed all rivals facilely.
Then through my frame I felt a throe
Of joy to see them dancing go,
As man and maid in measure trod
With twinkling feet the springing sod.
While minstrels sang, the tambourine
Kept with the flute due time I ween.
And rondelettes burst forth amain
To merry tunes of old Lorraine770
So sweetly, that I doubt if e’er
Was heard such music otherwhere,
For that fair province doth excel
In heaven-born music’s tuneful spell.
Then saw I cunning jugglers play.
And girls cast tambourines away
Aloft in air, then gaily trip
Beneath them, and on finger-tip
Catch them again, with skill so rare,
That all men stood a-wondering there.780
Then came two damsels ’tired with taste
That Venus’ self had not disgraced.
And suited well their dainty dresses
The wondrous plaits that bound their tresses:
Their kirtles thin but reached the knee.
Through which their forms showed pleasantly.
I saw the twain toward Mirth advance
With agile leap and darting glance,
Then both flew forward with a bound,
Just missed a kiss, then flung them round790
As though they feared some wrong they’d done,
Then lovingly embraced anon,
And then once more did they retreat,
A-playing with their winsome feet
A thousand antic turns; so quaint
And strange they were, that I should paint
Their wonders feebly did I try
To show the supple subtlety
With which their lithe light bodies swayed;
Such tumult in my breast it made800
As never dance and song I deem
Had done before in sooth or dream.