Classic Poem

The barons met in council when Love's speech
Was ended. Various plans they offered then;
And divers ones of them diversely spoke.
But after discord they agreement reached,
Which they reported to their lord, and said:
" Unanimously, sire, we're in accord,
Excepting Wealth, who has by oath affirmed
That she the castle never will assail
Or strike one stroke with dart or lance or ax
Or any other weapon, whate'er men say.
She scorns our enterprise, and leaves our ranks,
So much she holds this Lover in despite
And blames him that he never held her dear.
Toward him she takes this attitude of hate,
Which she declares she'll keep, because the man
Wished never to amass a treasury.
Not otherwise he failed — this his sole crime.
Day before yesterday, she says, he asked
To tread the path that Too-Much-Giving's called,
And with a flattering speech he made his prayer;
But she denied him for his poverty.
Nor has he since then managed to obtain
A single penny he can call his own,
Or so she says. When we had heard her speech,
We came to an agreement without her.
" False Seeming and Forced Abstinence we plan
To send with all their forces to assault
The postern gate that Evil Tongue defends
With all his Normans, whom may hell-fire burn!
Largesse and Courtesy with them shall wend
To show their hardihood against the hag
Who holds Fair Welcome in subjection dire.
Delight and Hidewell go to murder Shame;
Gathering their hosts, they will assault her gate.
Security and Hardihood, to Fear
Opposed, will attack with all their forces one
That never has acquired the taste for flight.
Franchise and Pity offer their assault
To Danger. Thus your army's ordered well
If each one can accomplish his intent,
The castle will be shattered every whit.
But still, your mother Venus should be there;
For she is very wise, and knows love's way
So well that, lacking her, no strategy
Can perfect be in either plan or deed.
'Twere well you called her to amend our lack. "

" My lords, the goddess who gave birth to me,
My lady and my mistress, will not do
All my desire, and is not at my call;
Though, when it pleases her, her custom 'tis
To come and aid me to attain my ends.
But I'm unwilling now to trouble her.
She is my mother, whom from infancy
I've treated with great reverence and awe;
For if a child his parents ne'er respects,
How can he give them fitting recompense?
Yet we can summon her as last resort.
If she be nigh, I know she'll come so fast
That none can stop her. Venus is a dame
Of mighty prowess, who full many a tower
Well worth a thousand besants has cast down
Without my help. Though I the credit had,
I never entered there. When Love's away,
With such a conquest he is never pleased.
Whate'er men say, it seems no other thing
Than meretriciousness. Who buys a horse
And pays a hundred pounds for it is quit;
He nor the merchant owes the other aught.
So I call not a sale by name of gift;
It merits no gratuity, e'en thanks.
Seller and buyer part in equity.
Buying and selling love is not like this;
For when the buyer's horse is in his stall
He has it yet to sell, perhaps with gain,
Or at the worst he'll not completely lose,
For though the horse may die he'll have its skin,
Which is worth something. If he likes the horse
And keeps it as his courser, he will be
Still master of the beast. But worse affair
Is every purchase that's through Venus made;
For, whatsoever care he takes, a man
Will lose the gold he pays and what he buys.
The seller gets the price and keeps the goods;
The buyer loses all. He cannot pay
A sum that's high enough to win control.
Not all his favors and his prayers prevent
Whatever stranger comes in his despite —
Be he a Roman, Breton, Englishman —
From the enjoyment of his merchandise,
Whether he pays a little or pays much
Or, giving nothing, gains by flattery.
Would you consider such a merchant wise?
No; rather miserable and wretched fool
Who, knowing what he does, yet loses all
Whene'er he buys, in spite of all his care.
'Tis true my mother is not wont to pay;
She's not so simple as to have that vice.
But men pay her, who afterward regret
Their bargains when they're pinched by Poverty,
Disciples of Dame Wealth though they may be,
Who loves me well whene'er my will is hers.
" To make assurance doubly sure, I'll swear
Not by Saint Venus my progenitress
Alone — by Saturn, too, her ancient sire,
Although his wedded wife gave her not birth —
And by the faith I to my brothers owe,
Though no man knows their fathers, so diverse
Are they with whom my mother has been joined —
I swear by the infernal river Styx,
And if I lie may I a year abstain
From drinking piment; for you know the use
Of gods who are forsworn: to drink no wine
Until a year has passed. I've sworn enough;
If such an oath I break, I'm in bad case.
But never shall you me perfidious find,
And Wealth shall dearly pay for her default,
Unless she arm herself with sword or pike.
Since she disdains me, sad for her will be
The day's dawn when the tower and the fort
Shall both together tremble to their fall.
When next I get a rich man in my grasp,
You'll see me squeeze him so that not a pound
Or mark will he retain when I am through.
I'll make his every penny fly, unless
A golden fountain floods his barns. Our maids
Shall pluck him till he has to sell his lands
To buy new plumes, if his defenses fail.
" It is the poor men who make me their lord;
Though they're unable to make me a feast,
I've no despite for them. No good man has.
Wealth is most avid and most gluttonous;
She chases, kicks, and quite outrages them.
But better lovers they than grasping rich
And stingy misers, by my father's faith!
More serviceable they — more loyal, too!
Their hearts and their good will suffice for me.
They think of me, and I must think of them.
I'd honor them if I were God of Wealth
Instead of God of Love. I feel their plaints.
Him must I succor who has worked for me;
For should he, lovesick, die, I'd most unloving seem. "