And soberly after then gan she say:
"Sir, ye have your tale myse-tente, mistaken.
To say your pearl is all away,
That is in coffer so comely clente clenched.
As in this garden gracious gay,
Herein to lenge for ever and play, abide.
There mys nor mourning come never—here, where: wrong.
Here was a forser for thee in faye, strong-box: faith.
If thou wert a gentle jeweller.
"But jeweller gente, if thou shalt lose
Thy joy for a gem that thee was lef, had left thee.
Me thinks thee put in a mad purpose,
And busiest thee about a reason bref. poor object.
For that thou lostest was but a rose,
That flowered and failed as kynd hit gef. nature gave it.
Now through kind of the chest that it gan close, nature.
To a pearl of price it is put in pref;26
And thou hast called thy wyrde a thef, doom, fate: theft.
That ought of nought has made thee, clear! something of nothing.
Thou blamest the bote of thy mischef: remedy: hurt.
Thou art no kyndé jeweller." natural, reasonable.
When the father pours out his gladness at the sight of her, she rejoins in these words:
"I hold that jeweller little to praise
That loves well that he sees with eye;
And much to blame, and uncortoyse, uncourteous.
That leves our Lord would make a lie, believes.
That lelly hyghte your life to raise who truly promised.
Though fortune did your flesh to die; caused.
To set his words full westernays27
That love no thing but ye it syghe! see.
And that is a point of surquedrie, presumption.
That each good man may evil beseem, ill become.
To leve no tale be true to tryghe, trust in.
But that his one skill may deme."28
Much conversation follows, the glorified daughter rebuking and instructing her father. He prays for a sight of the heavenly city of which she has been speaking, and she tells him to walk along the bank until he comes to a hill. In recording what he saw from the hill, he follows the description of the New Jerusalem given in the Book of the Revelation. He sees the Lamb and all his company, and with them again his lost Pearl. But it was not his prince's pleasure that he should cross the stream; for when his eyes and ears were so filled with delight that he could no longer restrain the attempt, he awoke out of his dream.
My head upon that hill was laid
There where my pearl to groundé strayed.
I wrestled and fell in great affray, fear.
And sighing to myself I said,
"Now all be to that prince's paye." pleasure.
After this, he holds him to that prince's will, and yearns after no more than he grants him.
"As in water face is to face, so the heart of man." Out of the far past comes the cry of bereavement mingled with the prayer for hope: we hear, and lo! it is the cry and the prayer of a man like ourselves.
From the words of the greatest man of his age, let me now gather two rich blossoms of utterance, presenting an embodiment of religious duty and aspiration, after a very practical fashion. I refer to two short lyrics, little noted, although full of wisdom and truth. They must be accepted as the conclusions of as large a knowledge of life in diversified mode as ever fell to the lot of man.
GOOD COUNSEL OF CHAUCER
Fly from the press, and dwell with soothfastness; truthfulness.
Suffice29 unto thy good, though it be small;
For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness;30
Praise hath envy, and weal is blent over all.31
Savour32 no more than thee behové shall.
Rede well thyself that other folk shall rede; counsel.
And truth thee shall deliver—it is no drede. there is no doubt.
Paine thee not each crooked to redress, every crooked thing.
In trust of her that turneth as a ball: Fortune.
Great rest standeth in little busi-ness.
Beware also to spurn against a nail; nail—to kick against
Strive not as doth a crocké with a wall. [the pricks.
Demé thyself that demest others' deed; judge.
And truth thee shall deliver—it is no drede.
That thee is sent receive in buxomness: submission
The wrestling of this world asketh a fall. tempts destruction
Here is no home, here is but wilderness:
Forth, pilgrim, forth!—beast, out of thy stall!
Look up on high, and thanké God of33 all.
Waivé thy lusts, and let thy ghost34 thee lead,
And truth thee shall deliver—it is no drede.
This needs no comment. Even the remark that every line is worth meditation may well appear superfluous. One little fact only with regard to the rhymes, common to this and the next poem, and usual enough in Norman verse, may be pointed out, namely, that every line in the stanza ends with the same rhyme-sound as the corresponding line in each of the other stanzas. A reference to either of the poems will at once show what I mean.
The second is superior, inasmuch as it carries one thought through the three stanzas. It is entitled A Balade made by Chaucer, teaching what is gentilnesse, or whom is worthy to be called gentill.
The first stock-father of gentleness— ancestor of the race
What man desireth gentle for to be [of the gentle.
Must follow his trace, and all his wittés dress track, footsteps:
Virtue to love and vices for to flee; [apply.
For unto virtue longeth dignity, belongeth.
And not the reverse falsely dare I deem,35
All wear he mitre, crown, or diadem. although he wear.
The first stock was full of righteousness; the