44 GOSSIP MINE Alice with a loud voice spake than : And specially his wife: God give him short life!" Margaret meek said, "So might I thrive, That give me two strokes, he shall have five : One cast down her shot, and went her way. 46 Lo therefore I say She shall be no more of our lore. "Such guests we may have enow That will not for their shot allow. With whom come she? Gossip, with you?" "Now reckon our shot, and go we hence. "Turn down the street where ye came out, “Gossip," quoth Anne," what needeth that doubt ? Your husbands be pleased when ye be reised. "Whatsoever any man think, We come for nought but for good drink. From the tavern be they all gone; 81 This is the thought that gossips take; Some be at the tavern once a week, Or else they will groan and make them sick; How say you, women, is it not so ? Now fill the cup, and drink to me, QUIA AMORE LANGUEO IN a valley of this restless mind Upon this hill I found a tree, Under a tree a man sitting; From head to foot wounded was he; A seemly man to be a king, QUIA AMORE LANGUEO I am true love that false was never ; My sister, man's soul, I loved her thus. I purveyed her a palace full precious; My fair love and my spouse bright! I saved her from beating, and she hath me bet; I have loved her ever as I her het I crowned her with bliss and she me with thorn; I led her to chamber and she me to die ; I brought her to worship and she me to scorn; To love that loveth is no maistry; Her hate made never my love her foe : Quia amore langueo. Look into mine handes, man! 83 These gloves were given me when I her sought; I woo her with hem wherever she go. Marvel not, man, though I sit still. With sharpe nails (well thou may'st wait!) In my love was never desait; All my membres I have opened her to; In my side I have made her nest; Look in, how weet a wound is here! This is her chamber, here shall she rest, Here may she wash, if any filth were; Come when she will, she shall have cheer I will abide till she be ready, I will her sue if she say nay; If she be retchless I will be greedy, If she weep, then bide I ne may : Fair love, let us go play : Apples ben ripe in my gardayne. I shall thee clothe in a new array, Thy meat shall be milk, honey and wine. Fair love, let us go dine: Thy sustenance is in my crippe, lo! If thou be foul, I shall thee make clean; If thou mourn ought, I shall thee mene; Foundest thou ever love so leal? What wilt thou, soul, that I shall do ? Quia amore langueo. QUIA AMORE LANGUEO What shall I do now with my spouse Till that she look out of her house Her chamber is chosen; is there none mo. My love is in her chamber : hold your peace! My babe I would not were in disease, Ne marvel ye not though I tend her to: Long thou for love never so high, My love is more than thine may be. Thou weepest, thou gladdest, I sit thee by: Yet wouldst thou once, love, look unto me! With children meat? Nay, love, not so! I will prove thy love with adversitè Wax not weary, mine own wife! What mede is aye to live in comfort? Ofter times than in disport. In weal and in woe I am aye to support: Mine own wife, go not me fro! Thy mede is marked, when thou art mort : 85 |