Chapter XIX

After which it happened, as I passed one day along a path which lay beside a stream of very clear water, that there came upon me a great desire to say somewhat in rhyme: but when I began thinking how I should say it, methought that to speak of her were unseemly, unless I spoke to other ladies in the second person; which is to say, not to any other ladies, but only to such as are so called because they are gentle, let alone for mere womanhood. Whereupon I declare that my tongue spake as though by its own impulse, and said, “Ladies that have intelligence in love.” These words I laid up in my mind with great gladness, conceiving to take them as my commencement. Wherefore, having returned to the city I spake of, and considered thereof during certain days, I began a poem with this beginning, constructed in the mode which will be seen below in its division. The poem begins here:—

Ladies that have intelligence in love, Of mine own lady I would speak with you; Not that I hope to count her praises through, But telling what I may, to ease my mind. And I declare that when I speak thereof, Love sheds such perfect sweetness over me That if my courage failed not, certainly To him my listeners must be all resign’d. Wherefore I will not speak in such large kind That mine own speech should foil me, which were base; But only will discourse of her high grace In these poor words, the best that I can find, With you alone, dear dames and damozels: ’Twere ill to speak thereof with any else.

An Angel, of his blessed knowledge, saith To God: “Lord, in the world that Thou hast made, A miracle in action is display’d, By reason of a soul whose splendours fare Even hither: and since Heaven requireth Nought saving her, for her it prayeth Thee, Thy Saints crying aloud continually.” Yet Pity still defends our earthly share In that sweet soul; God answering thus the prayer: “My well-belovèd, suffer that in peace Your hope remain, while so My pleasure is, There where one dwells who dreads the loss of her: And who in Hell unto the doomed shall say, ‘I have looked on that for which God’s chosen pray.’”

My lady is desired in the high Heaven: Wherefore, it now behoveth me to tell, Saying: Let any maid that would be well Esteemed keep with her: for as she goes by, Into foul hearts a deathly chill is driven By Love, that makes ill thought to perish there: While any who endures to gaze on her Must either be ennobled, or else die. When one deserving to be raised so high Is found, ’tis then her power attains its proof, Making his heart strong for his soul’s behoof With the full strength of meek humility. Also this virtue owns she, by God’s will: Who speaks with her can never come to ill.

Love saith concerning her: “How chanceth it That flesh, which is of dust, should be thus pure?” Then, gazing always, he makes oath: “Forsure, This is a creature of God till now unknown.” She hath that paleness of the pearl that’s fit In a fair woman, so much and not more; She is as high as Nature’s skill can soar; Beauty is tried by her comparison. Whatever her sweet eyes are turned upon, Spirits of love do issue thence in flame, Which through their eyes who then may look on them Pierce to the heart’s deep chamber every one. And in her smile Love’s image you may see; Whence none can gaze upon her steadfastly.

Dear Song, I know thou wilt hold gentle speech With many ladies, when I send thee forth: Wherefore (being mindful that thou hadst thy birth From Love, and art a modest, simple child), Whomso thou meetest, say thou this to each: “Give me good speed! To her I wend along In whose much strength my weakness is made strong.” And if, i’ the end, thou wouldst not be beguiled Of all thy labour, seek not the defiled And common sort; but rather choose to be Where man and woman dwell in courtesy. So to the road thou shalt be reconciled, And find the lady, and with the lady, Love. Commend thou me to each, as doth behove.

This poem, that it may be better understood, I will divide more subtly than the others preceding; and therefore I will make three parts of it. The first part is a proem to the words following. The second is the matter treated of. The third is, as it were, a handmaid to the preceding words. The second begins here, “An Angel;” the third here, “Dear Song, I know.” The first part is divided into four. In the first, I say to whom I mean to speak of my lady, and wherefore I will so speak. In the second, I say what she appears to myself to be when I reflect upon her excellence, and what I would utter if I lost not courage. In the third, I say what it is I purpose to speak so as not to be impeded by faintheartedness. In the fourth, repeating to whom I purpose speaking, I tell the reason why I speak to them. The second begins here, “And I declare;” the third here, “Wherefore I will not speak;” the fourth here, “With you alone.” Then, when I say “An Angel,” I begin treating of this lady: and this part is divided into two. In the first, I tell what is understood of her in heaven. In the second, I tell what is understood of her on earth: here, “My lady is desired.” This second part is divided into two; for, in the first, I speak of her as regards the nobleness of her soul, relating some of her virtues proceeding from her soul; in the second, I speak of her as regards the nobleness of her body, narrating some of her beauties: here, “Love saith concerning her.” This second part is divided into two, for, in the first, I speak of certain beauties which belong to the whole person; in the second, I speak of certain beauties which belong to a distinct part of the person: here, “Whatever her sweet eyes.” This second part is divided into two; for, in the one, I speak of the eyes, which are the beginning of love; in the second, I speak of the mouth, which is the end of love. And that every vicious thought may be discarded herefrom, let the reader remember that it is above written that the greeting of this lady, which was an act of her mouth, was the goal of my desires, while I could receive it. Then, when I say, “Dear Song, I know,” I add a stanza as it were handmaid to the others, wherein I say what I desire from this my poem. And because this last part is easy to understand, I trouble not myself with more divisions. I say, indeed, that the further to open the meaning of this poem, more minute divisions ought to be used; but nevertheless he who is not of wit enough to understand it by these which have been already made is welcome to leave it alone; for certes, I fear I have communicated its sense to too many by these present divisions, if it so happened that many should hear it.