The Lover Despairs
" CONFIDENCE being lost, I'm near despair;
But I will not give up — abandon Hope.
Worthless I'd be if Hope should fail me quite.
In this I should find comfort: that Love swore,
To make me better bear my ills, that Hope
Should be with me wherever I might go.
But what of that? What does it mean to me?
Though Hope be courteous and debonair,
She's never certain. Although she may be
Lady and mistress of all folk in love,
She puts them in great pain, and oft deceives
By promise false which she will never keep.
God help me, but this Hope is perilous;
For many a man in love depends on Hope
And trusts fulfillment that can never be.
Hope knows not what's to come; as little know
Her followers what they may count upon.
A fool is he who much on her depends;
For though she forms the fairest syllogism,
Fallacious may her whole conclusion be.
Ofttimes have I seen men by her deceived
Despite her wish that those who trust in her
May get the better of the bargain. Fool
Am I to blame her. Yet of what avail
Is her good will if she cure not my pain?
Mere promises are far too little aid;
Promise without performance buys no bread.
My luck has left me numberless denials.
Danger and Fear and Shame encumber me;
And Jealousy and Evil Tongue, who sting
And poison all their victims, with foul speech
Deliver me to saddest martyrdom.
Fair Welcome, who accepts my every thought
And knows that without him I soon shall die,
They hold in prison; but, to make more sure
My death, that foul Duenna, smelling old,
Guards him so close that he dares look at none.
" From now my dolor will increase. 'Tis true
The God of Love presented me three gifts
In his great kindness, but I've lost them all:
Now Sweet Speech fails; Sweet Thought avails me not;
Sweet Sight has left me — so may God me guard!
Fair gifts they were, no doubt, but valueless
To me unless Fair Welcome shall escape,
Who is unjustly held. I think I'll die
For want of him, who'll ne'er get out alive.
What power can free him from such prison house?
Escape? But no; he cannot compass it!
In a crazy fit was I, at least half mad
When foolishly I made myself Love's man.
Shame on the schemes of Lady Idleness,
Who led me to it when she harbored me
Within the pretty orchard, at my prayer!
If she'd been wise, she had refused me then.
Not worth an apple is a fool's request;
Betimes he should be censured and reproved.
I was a fool, and yet she trusted me!
She worked my will too well, but ne'er increased
My welfare; rather brought me tears and grief.
" Well warned by Reason, mad I must have been
When I took not the advice she freely gave
And did not quit Love's service right away.
Reason was right to blame me when I lent
Myself to Love, incurring grievous woes.
I think I will repent. Repent? Alas!
How can I? False and traitorous I'd be!
Satan would seize me should I leave my lord
Besides abandoning Fair Welcome quite.
If he for doing me a friendly turn
Now languishes in Jealousy's strong tower,
Should I appear to hate him? Courtesy
He did me, certainly — so great a one
As scarce could be believed, when he allowed
My passage through the hedge to kiss the Rose.
I should not show ill will against a friend,
And truly I will not. So help me God,
No more complaints and clamors will you hear
Against the God of Love, or Idleness,
Or Hope, or friend Fair Welcome; all have been
Most gracious, and I've wronged them with complaints.
Naught's left save suffering and martyrdom
And waiting for relief that Love may send,
For I expect his mercy; I recall
He said, " With favor I'll your services
Receive, and raise you to a high degree
Unless misconduct forfeits you that place;
But hope in little space for no great good."
" These are the very words he used, which showed
He loved me tenderly; then naught remains
Except to serve him well, if I'd deserve
His favor, spite of any fault in me.
I'm sure no fault lies in the God of Love;
He fails no man. Then it must be my fault,
Though whence it comes I know not, and perhaps
Shall never know. Now Love may let me die —
Incur or else evade the consequence —
For he must work his will as best he can.
I'll ne'er achieve my purpose if I die;
But, if I live, I'll not without some aid;
And, if it be Love's will, who grieves me much,
My purpose to accomplish for me, then
No evil can aggrieve me, for I'm his.
Now wholly to his counsel should I bend,
As is his will, and interfere no more.
But, whatsoever shall encompass me,
I pray the God of Love to be benign
Unto Fair Welcome after I am gone,
Who, without my deserving, caused my death.
Meanwhile, since I cannot his burden bear,
To please him ere I die, as lovers do,
Without repentance I'll confession make
To you, Love, and declare my testament:
Unto Fair Welcome I bequeath my heart,
At death; I have no other legacy to leave. "
But I will not give up — abandon Hope.
Worthless I'd be if Hope should fail me quite.
In this I should find comfort: that Love swore,
To make me better bear my ills, that Hope
Should be with me wherever I might go.
But what of that? What does it mean to me?
Though Hope be courteous and debonair,
She's never certain. Although she may be
Lady and mistress of all folk in love,
She puts them in great pain, and oft deceives
By promise false which she will never keep.
God help me, but this Hope is perilous;
For many a man in love depends on Hope
And trusts fulfillment that can never be.
Hope knows not what's to come; as little know
Her followers what they may count upon.
A fool is he who much on her depends;
For though she forms the fairest syllogism,
Fallacious may her whole conclusion be.
Ofttimes have I seen men by her deceived
Despite her wish that those who trust in her
May get the better of the bargain. Fool
Am I to blame her. Yet of what avail
Is her good will if she cure not my pain?
Mere promises are far too little aid;
Promise without performance buys no bread.
My luck has left me numberless denials.
Danger and Fear and Shame encumber me;
And Jealousy and Evil Tongue, who sting
And poison all their victims, with foul speech
Deliver me to saddest martyrdom.
Fair Welcome, who accepts my every thought
And knows that without him I soon shall die,
They hold in prison; but, to make more sure
My death, that foul Duenna, smelling old,
Guards him so close that he dares look at none.
" From now my dolor will increase. 'Tis true
The God of Love presented me three gifts
In his great kindness, but I've lost them all:
Now Sweet Speech fails; Sweet Thought avails me not;
Sweet Sight has left me — so may God me guard!
Fair gifts they were, no doubt, but valueless
To me unless Fair Welcome shall escape,
Who is unjustly held. I think I'll die
For want of him, who'll ne'er get out alive.
What power can free him from such prison house?
Escape? But no; he cannot compass it!
In a crazy fit was I, at least half mad
When foolishly I made myself Love's man.
Shame on the schemes of Lady Idleness,
Who led me to it when she harbored me
Within the pretty orchard, at my prayer!
If she'd been wise, she had refused me then.
Not worth an apple is a fool's request;
Betimes he should be censured and reproved.
I was a fool, and yet she trusted me!
She worked my will too well, but ne'er increased
My welfare; rather brought me tears and grief.
" Well warned by Reason, mad I must have been
When I took not the advice she freely gave
And did not quit Love's service right away.
Reason was right to blame me when I lent
Myself to Love, incurring grievous woes.
I think I will repent. Repent? Alas!
How can I? False and traitorous I'd be!
Satan would seize me should I leave my lord
Besides abandoning Fair Welcome quite.
If he for doing me a friendly turn
Now languishes in Jealousy's strong tower,
Should I appear to hate him? Courtesy
He did me, certainly — so great a one
As scarce could be believed, when he allowed
My passage through the hedge to kiss the Rose.
I should not show ill will against a friend,
And truly I will not. So help me God,
No more complaints and clamors will you hear
Against the God of Love, or Idleness,
Or Hope, or friend Fair Welcome; all have been
Most gracious, and I've wronged them with complaints.
Naught's left save suffering and martyrdom
And waiting for relief that Love may send,
For I expect his mercy; I recall
He said, " With favor I'll your services
Receive, and raise you to a high degree
Unless misconduct forfeits you that place;
But hope in little space for no great good."
" These are the very words he used, which showed
He loved me tenderly; then naught remains
Except to serve him well, if I'd deserve
His favor, spite of any fault in me.
I'm sure no fault lies in the God of Love;
He fails no man. Then it must be my fault,
Though whence it comes I know not, and perhaps
Shall never know. Now Love may let me die —
Incur or else evade the consequence —
For he must work his will as best he can.
I'll ne'er achieve my purpose if I die;
But, if I live, I'll not without some aid;
And, if it be Love's will, who grieves me much,
My purpose to accomplish for me, then
No evil can aggrieve me, for I'm his.
Now wholly to his counsel should I bend,
As is his will, and interfere no more.
But, whatsoever shall encompass me,
I pray the God of Love to be benign
Unto Fair Welcome after I am gone,
Who, without my deserving, caused my death.
Meanwhile, since I cannot his burden bear,
To please him ere I die, as lovers do,
Without repentance I'll confession make
To you, Love, and declare my testament:
Unto Fair Welcome I bequeath my heart,
At death; I have no other legacy to leave. "
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