Classic Poem

Through the ring's virtuous excellence
Thus am I rich, and have ever ynow.
Now, sir, yet a word by your licence
Suff'reth me to say, and to speak now:
Is it wisdom, as that it seemeth you,
Wear it on your finger continually?
What wouldst thou mean, quoth he, thereby?

What peril thereof might there befall?
Right great, quoth she, as ye in company
Walk often, from your finger might it fall,
Or plucked off been in a ragery
And so be lost, and that were folly:
Take it me, let me been of it warden,
For as my life keep it would I certain.

This Jonathas, this innocent young man,
Giving unto her words full credence,
As youth not avised best be can,
The ring her took of his insipience.
When this was done the heat and the fervence
Of love which he beforn had purchased,
Was quench'd, and love's knot was unlaced.

Men of their gifts to stint began.
Ah, thought he, for the ring I not ne bear,
Faileth my love; fetch me, woman,
Said he, my ring: anon I will it wear.
She rose, and into chamber dresseth her,
And when she therein had been a while,
Alas, quoth she, out on falsehood and guile,

The chest is broken, and the ring take out.
And when he heard her complaint and cry,
He was astonied sore, and made a shout,
And said: Cursed be the day that I
Thee met first, or with mine eyne sy.
She wept and showed outward chere of woe,
But in her heart was it nothing so.

The ring was safe enough, and in her chest
It was; all that she said was leasing,
As some woman other while at best
Can lie and weep when is her liking.
This man saw her woe, and said: Dearling,
Weep no more, God's help is nigh.
To him unwist how false she was and sly.

He twined thence, and home to his countree
Unto his mother the straight way he went;
And when she saw thither comen was he,
My son, quoth she, what was thine intent
Thee fro the school now to absent?
What caused thee fro school hither to hie?
Mother, right this, said he, nat would I lie.

Forsooth, mother, my ring is agoe,
My paramour to keep I betook it,
And it is lost, for which I am full woe;
Sorrowfully unto mine heart it sit.
Son, often have I warned thee, and yet
For thy profit I warn thee, my son,
Unhonest women thou hereafter shun.

Thy brooch anon right woll I to thee fet.
She brought it him, and charged him full deep
When he it took, and on his breast he it set,
Bet than his ring he should it keep,
Lest he the loss bewail should and weep.
To the university, shortly to sain,
In what he could, he hasted him again.

And when he comen was, his paramour
Him met anon, and unto her him took,
As that he did erst, this young revelour;
Her company he nat a deal forsook,
Though he cause had, but as with the hook
Of her sleight he beforn was caught and hent,
Right so he was deceived oft and blent.

And as through virtue of the ring before
Of good he had abundance and plentee,
While it was with him, or he had it lore:
Right so through virtue of the brooch had he
What good him list. She thought, How may this be?
Some privy thing now causeth this richesse,
As did the ring herebefore, I guess.

Wond'ring hereon, she pray'd him, and besought
Busily night and day, that tell he would
The cause of this; but he another thought:
He meant it close for him it kept be should,
And a long time it was or he it told.
She wept aye too and too, and said: Alas,
The time and hour that ever I born was!

Trust ye not on me, sir? she said,
Lever me were be slain in this place
By that good Lord that for us all died,
Than purpose again you any fallace;
Unto you would I be my live's space
As true as any woman in earth is
Unto a man; doubteth nothing of this.

Small may she do, that cannot well byheet,
Though not performed be such a promesse.
This Jonathas thought her words so sweet,
That he was drunk of the pleasant sweetness
Of them, and of his foolish tenderness
Thus unto her he spake and said tho:
Be of good comfort, why weepest thou so?

And she thereto answered thus sobbing:
Sir, quoth she, my heaviness and dreed
Is this; I am adread of the leesing
Of your brooch, as Almighty God forbeed
It happen so. Now what, so God thee speed,
Said he, wouldest thou in this case counsail?
Quoth she, that I keep it might sans fail.

He said: I have a fear and dread algate,
If I so did thou wouldst it leese
As thou lostest my ring, now gone but late.
First God pray I, quoth she, that I not chese,
But that my heart as the cold frost may freeze,
Or else be it brent with wild fire:
Nay, surely it to keep is my desire.

To her words credence he gave pleneer,
And the brooch took her, and after anon,
Whereas he was beforn full leefe and cheer
To folk, and had good, all was gone.
Good and friendship him lacked, there was none.
Woman, me fetch the brooch, quoth he; swythee
Into thy chamber for it go; hie thee.

She into chamber went, as then he bad,
But she not brought that he sent her for;
She meant it nat; but as she had be mad
Her clothes hath she all to rent and tore,
And cried, alas, the brooch away is bore,
For which I wole anon right with my knife
Myself slay: I am weary of my life.

This noise he heard, and blive he to her ran,
Weening she would han done as she spake,
And the knife in all haste that he can
From her took, and threw it behind his back,
And said: ne for the loss, ne for the lack
Of the brooch, sorrow not; I forgive all;
I trust in God, that yet us help he shall.