Classic Poem

A WHILE I scanned the scene in all details
Until a winsome lady me espied;
Her name was Courtesy. May God forbid
She ever be but gallant, debonair!
She called to me, " Fair friend, why stand you still?
Come here and take a partner for this set,
If dancing with us may afford you joy. "
With neither hesitation nor delay
I joined the throng; I was no whit abashed.
You may believe that when fair Courtesy
Asked me to join the dance and caroling
Most pleasing 'twas to me, who scarce had dared,
Though much I envied them, and greatly longed,
To join the band. But now, one of the crowd,
I covertly endeavored to observe
The faces and the forms of those who danced,
And also watched their fashions, manners, styles.
So now those who were there I will describe.
Sir Mirth was fair and straight, of stature tall.
In no group could you find a finer man.
His face was white and rosy — apple-like —
Genteel and elegant his well-shaped mouth,
His gray-blue eyes, his finely chiseled nose,
His curling yellow hair. His shoulders broad,
His narrow waist, his nobly gracious form,
Compact in all its members, made one think
Of some great artist's portrait masterpiece.
Polite and agile and adroit was he;
You never saw one lighter on his feet.
He wore no beard or mustache, for the hair
Upon his face was still but tender down;
A youthful gentleman was he as yet.
Now he was clothed richly in samite cloak
Embroidered with the figures of fair birds
And ornamented all with beaten gold.
His coat was particolored and well slashed
And pinked in curious guise. His feet were shod
With shoes both slashed and laced most artfully.
For pleasure and for love a rosy wreath
His lady fair had set upon his head;
Most fitting and divine this crown appeared.
Now do you know who his sweet mistress was —
The lady that did hate him least of all?
Her name was Gladness, she a singer gay
Who since she was but seven summers old
Had given him all her love. Now in the dance
Mirth held her by a finger; she held his.
Well did they suit each other — she a belle
And he a beau. Color of new-blown rose
Glowed in her flesh so tender smallest briar
Might scratch it, seemingly. Her forehead white
Was smooth and flawless over arching brows
Of brown that shaded joyous, smiling eyes
Seeming in constant contest with her mouth
Which should laugh first, and always they did win.
I know not what to say about her nose;
An artist could no daintier make of wax.
Her little lips were always pursed to kiss.
Her head was shining gold. But why should I
Go on to tell you any more of her?
That she'd a perfect form you may well guess.
Her hair was bound in finest gilded lace.
She wore a quite new orfray coronal.
Of chaplets twenty-nine at least I've seen
But never one more finely worked in silk.
Her body was adorned and richly clad
In gilded samite gown that matched the coat
Her lover wore, of which she was most proud.
Upon the other side of Gladness stood
The God of Love, who at his own sweet will
Distributes amity. He lovers rules;
'Tis he abates the pride of men; 'tis he
Makes thralls of lords, puts ladies in their place
Whene'er he finds them puffed up with conceit.
Not knavish in his manner was the god,
And in his beauty there was much to praise.
I hesitate to tell you of his clothes,
For 'twas no silken robe he wore, but one
Made all of flowers worked with amorous art.
In lozenges and 'scutcheons, lions, birds,
Leopards were portrayed, and other beasts,
In every part. Of colors most diverse
Were flowers worked, blossoms in many a guise
Placed cunningly: the periwinkle blue,
The yellow flowers of broom, and violets.
No bloom exists that was not woven there
In indigo or yellow or in white.
The rose leaves that were interlaced with them
Were long and broad. He wore a rosy crown
Upon his head. A flock of nightingales
That flew above the crown would barely skim
The leaves. Now there were various birds about:
Besides the nightingales were popinjays
And orioles and larks. The God of Love
An angel seemed, descended from the sky.
Love had with him Sweet Looks, a bachelor
Who customary fellow was to him;
And, gazing on the carolers, he held
Two Turkish bows belonging to the god.
One bow was made of bitter-fruited tree;
Knotted and gnarled it was at either end
And blacker than a wall. The other bow
Was made of slender, graceful, pliant stem,
Well shaped and polished smooth, and painted o'er,
For ornament, with maids and bachelors,
Glad faced and frolicsome, on every side.
With these two bows Sweet Looks, who seemed no knave,
Held for his master, five in either hand,
Ten arrows. Darts well feathered and well notched,
Cutting and hard and sharp enough to pierce,
Though golden pointed, did his right hand hold.
They were not made of iron or of steel,
But save for shafts and feathers were all gold.
The ends were tipped with hook-like golden barbs.
Sharpest and swiftest of these arrows five —
The one best feathered and the one most fair —
Was Beauty called; Simplicity was one
That sorer wounds, in my opinion;
Another one was Independence named,
Feathered with valor and with courtesy;
The fourth, which bore the heaviest barb, and so
If shot from far could little damage do
But aimed from near at hand was dangerous,
Was called Companionship; the fifth and last,
Fair Seeming named, least grievous was of all,
But made the deepest wound, though him it hit
Could hope for speedy cure, for sovereign power
Its venom has to heal the wound it makes.
Five other arrows of quite different guise
He also held. They were of ugly iron;
Blacker than fiends in Hell, also, were they.
Pride was the first; the second, of like force,
Was Villainy, envenomed and made black
With felony; the third was christened Shame;
Despair and Faithlessness were fourth and fifth.
These arrows had a close relationship
And similarity; the hideous bow,
Crooked and knobby, fitly suited them,
And well enough it could such arrows shoot.
Opposing virtues had these arrows five
Against the others, but I will not tell
At present all their force and all their power.
However, ere my story finds an end,
I'll not forget their meaning to explain
And all the truth of what they signified.
Now will I turn again unto my tale
And all the faces and the forms describe
Of those most noble folk there in the dance.
The God of Love seemed most attached to one
Of all the noble dames, and danced with her;
Her name was Beauty, like the arrow fair,
And she possessed the finest qualities.
She was not dark or brown, but rather bright,
And as the moon makes all the stars appear
Like feeble candles, so she dimmed the rest
Of that fair company. Her flesh was white
As fleur-de-lis, translucent as the dew.
She was as modest as a blushing bride;
She had no need to use an ogling glance.
Her form was straight and slender, and her face
Was clear and delicate. She sought no aid
From primping and adorning, powder, paint.
Her yellow hair — so long it touched her heels —
Her well-formed mouth and nose and cheeks and eyes —
With sweetness filled my heart. So help me God,
When I remember all her grace of limb,
It seems there's no such other in the world.
To summarize, she was both fair and young,
Neither too thin nor stout, neat and genteel,
Agreeable and pleasant, frank yet wise.
Standing by Beauty's side I next saw Wealth,
A lady of great haughtiness and pride —
A stately dame. He who in word or deed
Should dare offend against herself or hers
Would hardy be and bold; for she can aid
Or hinder. Not today or yesterday
Was it first known that rich folk have great might
To bring to joy or grief. So high and low
To Wealth gave mighty honor; her to serve
Was all the care of those who sought her grace.
" My lady " was she called by each of them,
For all on earth are well within her power
And fear her. Many a traitor thronged her court,
And many an envier and flatterer.
These are the ones most careful to dispraise
And even blame those worthiest of love.
The flatterer, first to his victim's face,
In his deceit, will praise him, and beguile
The world with well-oiled tongue; but afterward,
Behind his back, his praises to the bone
He picks, that he may honored men debase
And dissipate the righteous one's repute.
With lying many flatterers have flayed
Full many a worthy man who would have been
In confidence at court, but by their wiles
Have banished been. May evil overtake
All envious flatterers; for honest men,
Such as we are, love not their way of life.
Dame Wealth had on a robe of purple grain;
Consider it no deceit when now I say
That in this world none with it can compare
For beauty, richness, and becomingness;
With golden orfrays was the purple edged,
Each bearing portraiture of duke or king
Renowned in story; and about her neck
Most richly edged and collared was the gown
With band of gold, enameled and annealed.
And you should know that she had precious stones
More than enough, which brilliantly did flash.
About her purple robe Wealth proudly wore
A gorgeous girdle buckled with a clasp
That bore a magic stone; for whosoe'er
Should wear this stone need fear no poisoning.
She could not die from any venom's power.
Well might such stone be prized; it would be worth
More than the treasures that are found at Rome
To any wealthy man. Another stone
The pendant of the precious buckle formed;
It could the toothache cure, and any man
Who, fasting, on it gazed would be assured
Of perfect sight all day, such was its power.
Upon the golden tissue there were studs
Of purest gold, each one of size and weight
That would be worth a besant at the least.
Dame Wealth upon her yellow tresses wore
A golden circlet; never was there seen,
As I believe, more fair. Set in the gold
Were precious stones, and he would be more skilled
Than I who could describe and estimate
The gems that in that sterling gold were set.
Rubies there were, sapphires and garnets fine,
And two-ounce emeralds; but in the front,
Set with skilled workmanship within a round,
There was a carbuncle so clear and bright
That, when the evening fell, a man at need
Might light his way by it at least a league.
Such brilliance had the stone that all the place
Shone with the glow about her face and head.
Holding him by the hand, Wealth led a youth
Most beautiful, who was her paramour.
He was a man who studied to maintain
An open house for hospitality.
Well dressed was he and shod; his stables good
Held many a priceless horse; and rather he
Had been accused of murder or of theft
Than that his stable should have housed a nag.
With Lady Wealth and her benevolence
To be acquainted he was therefore glad;
For ever in his mind was one thought fixed:
How he might sojourn most luxuriously;
And she would furnish him the wherewithal
For his expenditures as if she drew
Her money from a chest big as a barn.
Next Lady Largesse followed in the dance;
Well nurtured was she and well taught to spend
And to do honor. Alexander's kin
Was she, and never knew such joy as when
She could to someone say, " The thing is thine. "
The wretched Avarice is not more quick
To take than Lady Largesse is to give;
God grants her such increase in all her goods
That she's ne'er able to bestow so much
That she has not more left. Much laud and praise
Has she, and fools and sages 'neath her sway
She holds by means of her unbounded gifts.
If any should her hate, I think that she
By serving them would make them all her friends;
Therefore she has the love of rich and poor.
Most foolish of all men is stingy lord;
No sin degrades the great like avarice.
No miser seignory or lands should win;
For he will have no friends to do his will.
Who wishes to be loved must not too dear
Hold his own treasure, but good will acquire
By generous gifts. Just as the magnet draws
The stubborn iron subtly to itself,
So gold and silver draw the hearts of men.
Largesse had on a new-made purple gown —
Sarcenet it was — and at the neck
The collar was unfastened; for this dame
Had just bestowed her brooch upon a friend.
However, this loose style became her well;
For now below her fair and well-formed face
Her neck was well displayed, and through the silk
Her skin showed white and clear and delicate.
Dame Largesse, who so worthy was and wise,
For partner had a knight from overseas;
And Arthur, King of Britain, was his kin.
'Twas he that bore the brilliant gonfanon,
Insignium of glory. Great renown
Was his; of him do minstrels stories tell
Before both lords and kings. This knight had come
Late from a tournament where he maintained,
In many a joust and many a massed assault,
The honor of his lady. He had pierced
Fully many a buckled shield, and many a helm
Had he unseated, many a knight unhorsed,
By virtue of his valor and his strength.
After all these did Franchise dancing come;
She was not a brunette, nor dull of hue,
But rather white as snow; her genteel nose
Was longer than the nose of Orleans.
Her gray eyes laughed; her eyebrows arched above;
Her yellow hair was long. Like turtledove's
Was her simplicity; her tender heart
Was debonair; she dared not say or do
To anyone a thing that was not meet.
If any man were dying for her love,
On him she would take pity, probably;
For such a rueful, pious, loving heart
She had that, lest he do a desperate deed,
She'd aid a man who suffered for her sake.
She wore a gabardine of finest wool —
A richer one in Arras you'd not find —
That was so finely sewed in every part
That at each point it was a perfect fit.
Franchise was very nicely dressed. No robe
So well becomes a maid as gabardine;
A woman more coquettish seems, and quaint,
In it than when she wears a common coat.
The gabardine, which was of white, proclaimed
That she who wore it was both pure and good.
Side by side with her there danced a youth
Whose name I did not learn, but one who seemed
Genteel as if the son of Windsor's lord.
Next her came Courtesy, much praised by all;
For she had neither folly nor conceit.
God bless her, she my invitation gave
To join the dance when first I reached the place!
She was not overnice or overbold,
But reasonable and wise; no insolence
E'er hindered her fair words and fairer deeds.
None misbespoken ever was by her;
She held no rancor against anyone.
A clear brunette was she, with shining face.
No lady of more pleasant grace I know;
Her form seemed that of empress or of queen.
Holding her in the dance a young knight came,
Worthy and fair of speech, upon all men
Conferring honor. Fair and fine was he,
Well skilled feats of arms, well loved by her.
Fair Idleness came afterward, and I
Secured her as a partner in the dance.
Already I've described her form and dress;
I'll say no more of them. She was the one
Who did me such a kindness at the gate
When, through the wicket, she admitted me
To see this flowering garden — these fine folk.
The last that I remember of the band
Was Youth, who in her clear and laughing face
Scarce showed the passage of twelve winter's time.
She seemed still innocent — had yet no thought
Of evil or deceit — and gaiety
And joy were all her care; for well you know
That youthful creatures think but of delight.
Her sweetheart was so intimate with her
That they would kiss as often as they pleased,
And all the world might see their open love.
They were no whit ashamed lest some might speak
Of them insinuating words; they let
All see them kissing like two turtledoves.
The boy was like the girl — both young and fair;
Well matched were they in age, as they were matched in heart.