Classic Poem

No more delay the harridan then made,
But to Fair Welcome, at a trot, returned,
Who in the prison, much against his will,
Still suffered from his long imprisonment.
She entered by the gateway of the tower,
And joyously she hastened up the stairs
As fast as trembling limbs would her permit.
From room to room she sought him, and at last
She found him leaning o'er the battlement,
Pensive and sad and mournful, ill at ease
With his confinement. Thus she cheered him up:
" Fair son, " said she, " it moves me much to find
You so low-spirited. Tell me, I pray,
What are your thoughts. If I can counsel give,
Never will I abuse your confidence. "
Fair Welcome did not dare to make complaint
Or tell the whys and wherefores of his mood;
For he knew not if she spoke true or lied.
Thus insecure, he disavowed his thoughts;
His heart warned him to put no trust in her.
Trembling and fearful, he dared heave no sigh,
So much he'd always feared the vile old crone.
He wished to guard himself from treachery,
Which he much feared; so he did not disclose
His great uneasiness; but with a face
And manner of pretended happiness
He strove to reconcile himself to her.
" My most dear lady, certainly, " said he,
" However much you lay it to my charge,
I'm not low-spirited, except that you
So long have kept away. Unwillingly
I stay here in your absence, for my love
Of you is great. Where have you been so long? "

" Where? By my head, I soon will let you know,
And from the knowledge you will gain great joy
If valiant or wise you claim to be.
A gallant, the most courteous in the world,
In whom all pleasing graciousness abounds,
Whom I just now saw passing through the street,
A thousand times salutes you, and by me
He sends to you this chaplet; and he says
That he would like to see you, that he'll have
No day of health or any wish to live
Unless by your good will. He says, " My God
And good Saint Faith preserve my life, unless
I can succeed in pleasing him when once
At leisure I've conversed with him a while!"
For you and no one else he loves his life.
If by that means he could do anything
That might be pleasing to you, he would walk
Stark naked all the way to Pavia.
He cares not what becomes of him, unless
You will consent to have him call on you. "
Fair Welcome straightway asked who this might be
Who thus desired to see him, ere he took
The present, for he felt some little fear
That from such source it came that he'd not wish
To keep it. Without further tale, the dame
Revealed the truth to him: " It is that youth
Of whom you've heard so much, whom you know well,
Because of whom but lately Evil Tongue,
Who is no more, brought you to so much grief
When great detraction he heaped up on you.
Oh, never may his soul see Paradise!
Full many a good man he's made desolate;
But now the Devil has him, for he's dead.
Forever we're delivered; we've escaped;
We need not care two apples for him now;
And even could he come again to life
He could not grieve us, howsoe'er he blamed,
For I know more than he has ever known.
Believe me, then, and take and wear this wreath;
Give him that much of comfort, at the least.
You need not doubt he loves you with true love,
With love without a flaw; or, if he had
Other intention, I perceived it not.
I think we both may give him confidence.
If he asks anything he should not seek,
Most easily you can deny his will.
If he brews folly, he must drink the brew.
But he's no fool; the rather, he is wise.
Never an insult will be given by him,
And that is why I love and prize him so.
He'll not be so discourteous as to ask
A thing it were not fitting you should grant.
Loyal above all living men is he,
As all his company, and I myself,
Have always testified. He's well brought up
And mannerly; no man of woman born
Has ever any evil of him heard
Save that which Evil Tongue has said of him.
But now all that is in oblivion;
Even I have almost forgotten it,
And all that I remember of his words
Is that they were most foolish and most false.
The Lover would have killed him, certainly,
If he had known what Evil Tongue has said;
For he is bold and hardy. In this land
There's not another one can match his worth,
His heart's so full of true nobility.
King Arthur's bounty cannot his exceed —
Nor even Alexander's — could he spend
So much of gold and silver as was theirs.
Howe'er well they knew how to give their gold,
He'd give a hundred times more than they gave.
So good a heart he has, he'd daze the world
If his possessions were so plentiful.
He needs no lessons in munificence.
Therefore, I beg you, take this chaplet now,
Whose flowers smell more sweet than any balm. "
" My faith, I fear that I'll be blamed for it, "
Fair Welcome cried, trembling in every limb,
Sighing and shaking, blushing, turning pale,
And losing countenance. She thrust the gift
Upon him, almost forcing him to take,
Although he dared not reach his hand for it,
But said, the better to excuse himself,
That 'twould become him better to refuse
Than that, 'twere known, how'er he liked the gift.
" The chaplet's very beautiful, " he said,
" But better 'twere for me that all my clothes
Were burned to ashes than that I should dare
Accept a gift that's sent to me by him.
Suppose I take it, what could we then say
To Jealousy, who is so quarrelsome?
Well know I that she'd be enraged with ire —
She'd strip my head of flowers, one by one,
Then kill me — if she knew they came from him;
Or I'd be seized and still more closely bound
Than ever in my life I've been before;
Or if I could escape her and take flight,
Where could I any place of refuge find?
You'd see me buried while I still had life
If after such retreat I should be caught.
I think there'd be pursuit; and I'd be seized
In midst of flight, there'd be such hue and cry.
I'll not accept the gift. "
" Oh, yes, you will;
It will involve you in no blame or loss. "

" But what if she should ask me whence it came? "
" You've more than twenty answers you can make. "
" But what could I reply to her demand?
Whence shall I say I got it, if she scolds?
If I don't tell the truth, I must tell lies;
And, if she found me out, I swear to you
'Twere better I should dead than living be. "

" What shall you say? If you've no better tale,
Tell her it came from me. I've such renown
That you need no shame or fear of blame
For taking anything I give to you. "
Fair Welcome said no more, but felt assured
And placed the wreath upon his golden hair.
The old crone laughed, and swore upon her soul,
Her body, bones, and skin, that he'd ne'er had
A headdress that became him half so well.
Fair Welcome then admired it in his glass
And often it surveyed to see how well
It looked on him. Now the Duenna saw
That none except the two were in the place,
So gracefully she took her seat by him
And thus began to preach: " Fair Welcome dear,
How much I love you! For you are so sweet
And of such worth! My joyous days are gone,
But yours are still to come. I scarce sustain
My limbs with cane or crutch; while you're still young
And careless what you do. But well I know
That late or soon, whenever it may be,
You'll pass amidst the flame that scorches all —
You'll plunge into the bath where Venus makes
All women bathe. I know you'll feel her brand.
Now I advise that you prepare yourself
By listening to the teaching that I'll give
Before you take that bath; it's perilous
For youths to bathe there who have not been taught.
But, if you follow straight the advice I give,
You will arrive most safely in your port at last. "