dots-menu
×

Home  »  The English Poets  »  Extracts from The Pastime of Pleasure: Dialogue between Graunde Amoure and La Pucel

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. I. Early Poetry: Chaucer to Donne

Stephen Hawes (d. 1523)

Extracts from The Pastime of Pleasure: Dialogue between Graunde Amoure and La Pucel

[From Cantos xviii. and xix.]

Amoure.
O SWETE lady, the good perfect starre

Of my true hart, take ye nowe pitie,

Thinke on my paine, whiche am tofore you here,

With your swete eyes beholde you and se,

Howe thought and wo, by great extremitie

Hath chaunged my hue into pale and wanne.

It was not so when I to loue began.

Pucel.
So me thinke, it dothe right well appeare

By your coloure, that loue hath done you wo,—

Your heuy countenaunce, and your doleful cheare,—

Hath loue suche might, for to aray you so

In so short space? I maruell muche also

That you woulde loue me, so sure in certayne

Before ye knew that I woulde loue agayne.

Amoure.
My good deare hart, it is no maruaile why;

Your beauty cleare and louely lokes swete,

My hart did perce with loue so sodainely,

At the firste time, that I did you mete

In the olde temple, when I did you grete.

O lady deare, that pers’d me to the root;

O floure of comfort, all my heale and boote.

Pucel.
Your wo and paine, and all your languishyng

Continually, ye shall not spende in vayne,

Sithe I am cause of your great mournyng.

Nothinge exile you shall I by disdaine:

Your hart and mine shall neuer part in twaine,

Thoughe at the first I wouldne not condescende,

It was for feare ye did some yll entende.

Amoure.
With thought of yll my minde was neuer mixt

To you, madame, but always cleare and pure

Bothe daye and nyght, vpon you whole perfixt

Put I my minde, yet durst nothing discure

Howe for your sake I did such wo endure,

Till nowe this houre with dredfull hart so faint,

To you, swete hart, I haue made my complaint.

Pucel.
I demed oft you loued me before;

By your demenoure I did it espye,

And in my minde I judged euermore

That at the last ye woulde full secretely

Tell me your minde, of loue right gentilly:

All ye haue done so my mercy to craue

In all worship, you shall my true loue haue.

Amoure.
O gemme of vertue, and lady excellent

Aboue all other in beauteous goodlines,

O eyen bright as starre refulgent,

O profounde cause of all my sickenes,

Nowe all my joye and all my gladnes,

Wouldne God that we were joyned in one

In mariage, before this daye were gone.