Romance of the Rose (Ellis)/Chapter 51
LI
Beauty and Ugliness assail
Fair Chastity with such avail,
That they subject her to their dame,
Who loves to put chaste maids to shame.
Ugliness turns traitor
And followeth her with ponderous mace,
Uplifted, round about the place9410
So fiercely, that ’twould seem as though
Her mistress she must overthrow
Within an hour.
O frail and weak
Is Chastity when both sides seek
Her death, and none appear to aid
Or help her; then, of all afraid,
She takes to flight.
If under oath
She were to fight, she yet were loth,
Knowing so little of the way
Of combat, to contest the day9420
Alone, for scarcely could she hope
With friend and foe alike to cope.
Alas! for traitorous Ugliness,
Whose duty ’twas and business
Frail Chastity to guard. I ween
Could she have hidden her between
Her skin and smock, she surely ought
Have popped her there as quick as thought.
Beauty, moreover, is to blame,
For Chastity may justly claim9430
Her love and reverence, and her peace
She ought to make with her, and cease
From bickering strife, nor only so,
But ’neath her rule should bend alow.
If she but wise and courteous were,
With gentle kindliness she’d bear
Herself towards her, all despite
Foregone, for so doth Virgil write
Within the Æneid’s sixth book:
Cumæan Sibyl’s saying
(The word Cumæan Sibyl took).9440
That whoso chastely lives may well
Hope to escape the nether hell.
But swear I by the Lord who made
The heavens, that when some saucy jade
Doth impudently set about
To paint her face, and trick her out
In finery, ’tis plain that she
Makes war on saintly Chastity.
Alas! Poor Chastity hath got,
I fear me, many a foe red-hot9450
In convent cell and abbey cloister,
Who would not hesitate to hoist her
Oyer their walls; they should be built
Right high—’twould inmates save from guilt.
Homage to Venus all dames pay,
And daintily their forms array
To draw on those by whom they’re seen
About the ways with mincing mien,
And round them wanton glances fling,
Men to incite to dallying.9460
All equally they set their snares,
Whether at dances, or when prayers
Call them to church, and safe and sure
It is to say that such allure
They’d ne’er affect, except with wish
Immodest, vile, and devilish.
To dazzle foolish men, and draw
Them on to break God’s holy law.
God’s creation perfect
But those who look with equal eye
Will see that women woefully9470
Put God to shame, when in their fits
Of folly, so beside their wits
Are they as not to be content
With fairness such as God hath sent,
But each one on her head must set
Fine gear with many a gay floweret
Of silk or gold adorned, whene’er
She marches forth to take the air.
Alas! the silly fool succeeds
Only in proving that she needs9480
Good sense and modesty, when thus
She strives to make her beauteous
With foolish gewgaws (which e’en less
Of worth than her poor self possess),
Beyond the point that God saw good,
As though He had not understood
His handicraft, but such a whelp
As she must needs consult for help
To perfect that His hand begun.
So, from all creatures ’neath the sun9490
That God created, she doth ask
Assistance in her foolish task,
Metals and minerals, and flowers,
O’er which she idly wasteth hours.
But for that matter, truth to speak,
Men oft are foolish, vain, and weak
As women are, for they likewise
Oft seek the beauty to despise
That God hath given them, and bedeck
With chains and chaplets head and neck9500
That His right hand hath wrought: despite
We do His wisdom when delight
We take to render yet more fair
His matchless work, as those who dare
Simple vesture enough
Find fault with it. Away, I cry,
With all such vain frivolity,
I ask alone for raiment meet,
To shield from summer’s scorching heat
And winter’s frost. By God’s help sped,
Can I protect my limbs and head9510
Against rude tempest, wind and rain,
With cloth and woollen; nowise fain
Am I of outland squirrel fur,
Nor love the cost such things incur.
My wants supplied—I ask no more.
Too much, for you, I waste my store
Of deniers on fine robes of blue
Or scarlet, or fair tinting due
To outland dyes, or fine brunette,
With costly furs around beset,9520
Which you disport in public places,
With leering smiles and wanton graces,
Dragging the while your costly train
Through dust in drought, through mud, ’neath rain,
Giving small thanks to God or me.
And when you lie all nakedly
In bed a-night-time, nought discreet
You show you when I fain would greet
Your lips or cheek with loving kiss,
And win the while sweet nuptial bliss9530
With kindly word and fond caress,
And every show of tenderness,
But all the more I press my love
Upon you, all the more you prove
Recalcitrant, and quite snuff out
My purpose with ill-tempered pout,
Nor even show the common grace
Of turning towards me, face to face,
But feign you sick, and sob and sigh,
And lie all limp and languorously.9540
So that at last I’m forced to beat,
For fear of failure, glum retreat.
A husband’s grievance
And oft I watch the day-dawn break,
And wonder as I lie awake
Whether you wrangle in such sort
When you with other men disport
And fondle, and in what way a-paid
These rufflers are when all arrayed
And muffled up with gallant dress
You’re dizened out for wantonness;9550
Or if you practise such despite
Towards them by day as me by night.
But ne’er with gay sparks you consume
The time, I doubt, in fret and fume,
But dance and sing where’er you go,
Your face all wreathed in smiles to show
Your dazzling pearly teeth, and thus
Through meads and gardens amorous
Do you, my church-wed wife, make play
With worthless spendthrifts, day by day,9560
While I by no means am exempt
From handling rude; with fine contempt
They cry: Ha! ha! may wolves devour
The jealous dotard with his sour
Curmudgeon’s grin, and may his bones
Be dragged by hounds across the stones!
Women will have their way
By whom am I thus put to shame?
Baggage! by you, who bear my name,
Vile, common quean of ribald heart;
With ruffians well you play your part,9570
Foul bitch at heat! base spawn of hell!
False libertine! curst Jezebel!
Since thus you give yourself to crime,
God grant a year may fill your time,
For while you join in this wild race,
Your lecherous life is my disgrace,
And I through you shall surely be
One of the base fraternity
Of Saint Arnould accounted, and
A member of that cuckold band,9580
Wherein each man must spend his life
Who’s fool enough to take a wife,
For though one had a million eyes,
A woman will their watch surprise.
No guard can keep a wanton chaste,
And though she fail Eve’s fruit to taste
At first, if she thereto hath will,
Her purpose she’ll at last fulfil.
But Juvenal of yore spake thus,
As he were fain to comfort us:9590
Stupration is the least offence
Of women, saith he, for prepense
Are they to greater crimes; he tells
How mothers-in-law wrought poison spells
For daughters’ husbands, and with charms.
On those they loved not, worked dire harms
And devilish tricks, and more of crime,
That to set forth would waste all time.
Whoso takes pains to peel the rind
From woman will the harlot find,9600
And taking heed will prove women all
Fallen or ready-ripe to fall.
Women’s will unalterable
And this advantage over men
Have women as to will, that when
They’ve settled what they’re fain to do,
They’ll do it, though the world should rue,
Or perish: none can change the heart
Of woman, though her body smart;
Could one a woman’s spirit quell,
Her body might he rule as well.9610
Now leave we that which ne’er can be;
But, Lord of Heaven! give help to me!
What can I ’gainst this ribald crew,
Who put my life to shame and do
Me wrongs untold? Whatever threat
I use against them is but met
With laughing gibe; if open war
I make upon them, then they are
Prepared to kill me. Brutal, proud,
And strong are they, right well endowed9620
For any crime; they spurn the law,
Nor care for me one single straw;
For in their spirits burneth bright
The fire of youth, and maketh light
And bold their hearts in such degree
As cometh nigh insanity.
And causeth every one of these
Hercules and Samson
To deem himself a Hercules,
Samson or Roland; ’twixt the two
First named, if records tell us true,
Corporal strength was equal, for
Hercules, saith Solinus, more
Than seven feet was of height, and this
Exceeds all other men, ywis.
Labours immense he undertook,
And fearsome monsters twelve he strook
With death, and then a thirteenth tried
To overcome, but failed, and died
By Dejanira’s act, who sent
To him a shirt, in which was pent
A poisonous, deadly fire, and thus
This Hercules, so valorous
And strong, was utterly subdued
And conquered by vicissitude,
Beneath a woman’s treacherous hand.
And this she did because the brand
Of Love towards Iole had turned
The heart of him for whom she burned.
And Samson—he a half-score men
Had scorned in fight as they were ten
Ripe apples while his locks grew, but
By Delilah those locks were cut.
A sot am I these things to say,
Which you’ll repeat, when once away,
Threats of violence
To all the rascal friends you meet,
Who will with scorn and laughter greet
The tale you tell, and thus through you
May I win blows, nor light nor few,
My head to bruise, my legs to break,
And jelly of my back to make,9660
Should I permit you hence to go.
But if perchance I come to know
That you have blabbed one word, I’ll let
You hear of it. Unless they get
Hold of my arm and from me take
This club, such play with it I’ll make
That neither neighbour, friend, nor sire,
Nor gallant, shall abate my ire.
Alas! that e’er we should have met!
’Neath what unhappy star was set9670
My birth, that you on me should bring
Such shame, disgrace, and suffering?
But to these scoundrel villain curs,
Because they’re smooth-tongued flatterers,
Do you accord full seigniory,
While I it is who ought to be
Your well-loved lord, by whom you’ve been
Fed, clothed, and shod long years, I ween.
All shamelessly am I by you
Associate made with this base crew9680
Of scurvy scoundrels, villain scum,
From whom nought else to you can come
But shame, dishonour, and disgrace;
For while they praise you to your face,
But cheaply they esteem your charms,
E’en while they revel in your arms.
Back-biting
Before your face they all declare
That you’re an angel, but beware!
For when your back is turned they pull
You all to pieces for a trull,9690
And laugh and jeer, and tell the mad
And merry sportive times they’ve had
With you, and throughly well such fate
Do you deserve, when dedicate
You are to vice, and men at will
May have you as a common gill.
And when by all this jolly rout
I see you mauled and pulled about,
I frankly own, I sometimes feel
An envy I can scarce conceal;9700
But don’t deceive yourself, ’tis not
For fairness of your face, God wot!
That men pursue you, nor for sense
Or lively wit or eloquence
That you display; it is alone
By your fine feathers that they’re won,
Your rich spun robes and jewels bright,
Your clasps of gold, and rings that dight
Your fingers, all of which you got
From me by wheedling, and a sot9710
Therefor I own me.
When to balls
And dances, as your fancy calls,
With gallants you betake yourself,
I’m left at home upon the shelf
As one who’s drunk or mad, whilst bold
And brave you go, bedeckt with gold,
Follies of dress
Silver and gems, on neck and head,
Whose value might be safely said
Above five hundred pounds, and ask
That I your worthless body mask9720
With silks and satins to your taste,
While I may fret, and pine, and waste
(So much it wears and vexes me)
With angry spleen and jealousy.
What for these orfreys do I care
With which you twist and bind your hair,
Entwined with threads of gold? and why
Must you have set in ivory
Enamelled mirrors, sprinkled o’er
With golden circlets? (Nothing more9730
Enrages me), and why these gems
Befitting kingly diadems,
Rubies and pearls, and sapphires fair,
Which cause you to assume an air
Of mad conceit?
These costly stuffs,
And plaited furbelows and ruffs,
And cinctures to set off your waist,
With pearls bedeckt and richly chased,
And morses and rich fastenings;
What use to me are all such things?9740
And wherefore, say then, do you choose
To fit your feet with gaudy shoes,
Except you have a lust to show
Your shapely legs?
By St. Thibaud,
Ere yet three days are past I’ll sell
This trash, and trample you pell-mell;
Plain gear suffices
I’ll give you nothing else to wear,
By Body of God, but simple gear,
A woollen kirtle, and a gown
Of hempen woof to fall adown9750
About your heels, nought delicate,
But coarse and rude, and in a state
Of rags and slits, howe’er you fret;
And round about your waist I’ll set
A girdle, of what sort, think ye?
No tricked and tinselled trumpery,
But plain white skin, undecked with gold,
While for your shoes shall serve my old
Worn gaiter leggings; soon I’ll thrash
From mind and body all this trash9760
Of dress and mincing ways, which draw
You on to break the marriage law.
No longer shall this ribald crew
Unhindered have their will of you.
I charge you that you tell me now,
Without a lie, from whom and how
Did you obtain that rich silk dress
Which at the ball you wore? Confess!
For well I know it was not I
Who gave it you.
Unblushingly9770
You swore by God the Father and
St. Denis, who protects this land,
And holy Philibert, that you
Received it from your mother, who,
According to your tale, so well
Loves me, that readily she’d sell
The mother-in-law
Her goods to spare my purse, or give
All she calls hers that I might live
Untouched by want or care. I’d see
Her burnt alive, most joyfully9780
(The vile whoremongering old cat),
And you along with her, if that
Be not the very thing you said!
I’ll surely ask her, by my head,
But no, alas! it were but vain,
Great the vexation, nought the gain;
Past doubt you’ve talked to one another,
Like as two marbles—child and mother,
Two bells with self-same clapper rung,
Two weeds from one vile root upsprung.9790
Right well ye hop and step together,
Two evil birds of equal feather.
She in her youth days was as vile
As you are now, and every wile
That then she learned she taught to you,
Apt pupil for her devil’s brew!
And doubt I not that she, forsooth,
Of many a dog hath proved the tooth,
And hath but ceased to trip the dance,
Because right well she knows her chance9800
Therein is past and gone. Her face,
Besmeared with paint, hath lost all trace
Of beauty, and the harridan
Employs her short remaining span
Of life to sell her child. Therefor
It is she comes three times or four
Each week, pretending to engage
You to set forth on pilgrimage
According to the ancient use;
violence But well I know she makes excuse9810
Thereof to trot you forth for sale
Like any nag, nor doth she fail
To snare while teaching you to snare.
Deem you that I am unaware
Of these vile tricks ? I scarce restrain
My arm from laying on amain
With this good stick, until you lie
All in a heap, like pullet pie.