Pastoral
" When I see the new flowers spring up in the meadow, when I hear the little stream murmur in the pebbles, then I am held by a new love from which I shall never recover; if this sickness is not healed, well I know that I shall die.
" I am a dark and lovely and young maid, my cheek is vermilion, my eyes grey, my mouth beautiful. My little breast so pricks me that I cannot bear it: 'tis reason I meddle with the sweet pain of love.
" Surely, if I found one that would set me on the way, I would gladly love, never would I leave him; for I have heard it said and told for truth that none has perfect bliss until she comes to love. "
Towards the maid I went to be acquainted with her; I saw she was comely and white and of simple countenance: she did not disdain what I said to her. Then without delay I begged her love.
I took her by the naked hand, I laid her on the growing grass; she cried out and vowed she disliked this play. " Away with your lechery! May God shame it! For to me 'tis so hard and rough I cannot endure it. "
Fair, most sweet love, be not afraid! Not yet do you know how good this life is. Your mother did not die of it, that you know well: nor will the daughter either, have no doubt of it.
When I had taken her maidenhead, she jumped to her feet and cried out aloud: " Well have I escaped you! 'Tis thirteen years since I was born, but never had I a morning that I enjoyed so much! "
" I am a dark and lovely and young maid, my cheek is vermilion, my eyes grey, my mouth beautiful. My little breast so pricks me that I cannot bear it: 'tis reason I meddle with the sweet pain of love.
" Surely, if I found one that would set me on the way, I would gladly love, never would I leave him; for I have heard it said and told for truth that none has perfect bliss until she comes to love. "
Towards the maid I went to be acquainted with her; I saw she was comely and white and of simple countenance: she did not disdain what I said to her. Then without delay I begged her love.
I took her by the naked hand, I laid her on the growing grass; she cried out and vowed she disliked this play. " Away with your lechery! May God shame it! For to me 'tis so hard and rough I cannot endure it. "
Fair, most sweet love, be not afraid! Not yet do you know how good this life is. Your mother did not die of it, that you know well: nor will the daughter either, have no doubt of it.
When I had taken her maidenhead, she jumped to her feet and cried out aloud: " Well have I escaped you! 'Tis thirteen years since I was born, but never had I a morning that I enjoyed so much! "
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