[Sidenote: The father enquires of the maiden whether she is his
long-lost pearl, and longs to know who has deprived him of his
treasure.]
“O perle,” q{uod} I, “in perleȝ pyȝt,
Art þ{o}u my perle þat I haf playned,
Regretted by my{n} one, on nyȝte?
Much longey{n}g haf I for þe layned, 244
Syþen into gresse þ{o}u me aglyȝte;
Pensyf, payred, I am for-payned,
& þ{o}u i{n} a lyf of lyky{n}g lyȝte
In paradys erde, of stryf vnstrayned. 248
What wyrde hatȝ hyder my iuel vayned,
& don me in þys del & gret dau{n}ger?
Fro we i{n} twy{n}ne wern towen & twayned,
I haf ben a Ioyleȝ Iuelere.” 252
[Sidenote: [Fol. 42b.]]
[Sidenote: The maiden tells him that his pearl is not really
lost. She is in a garden of delight, where sin and mourning
are unknown.]
That Iuel þe{n}ne in ge{m}myȝ gente,
Vered vp her vyse w{i}t{h} yȝen graye,
Set on hyr corou{n} of perle orie{n}t,
& soberly after þe{n}ne con ho say: 256
“Si{r} ȝe haf yo{ur} tale myse-tente,
To say yo{ur} perle is al awaye,
Þat is i{n} cofer, so comly clente,
As i{n} þis gardyn gracios gaye, 260
Here-i{n}ne to lenge for eu{er} & play.
Þer mys nee morny{n}g com neu{er} here,
Her were a forser for þe i{n} faye,
If þ{o}u were a gentyl Iueler. 264
[Headnote: SHE TELLS HIM OF HER BLISS.]
[Sidenote: The rose that he had lost is become a pearl of price.
The pearl blames his rash speech.]
Bot Iueler gente if þ{o}u schal lose
Þy ioy for a ge{m}me þat þe watȝ lef,
Me þynk þe put i{n} a mad porpose,
& busyeȝ[9] þe aboute a raysou{n} bref, 268
For þat þ{o}u lesteȝ watȝ bot a rose,
Þat flowred & fayled as kynde hyt gef;
Now þurȝ kynde of þe kyste þ{a}t hyt con close,
To a perle of prys hit is put i{n} pref; 272
& þ{o}u hatȝ called þy wyrde a þef,
Þat oȝt of noȝt hatȝ mad þe cler;
Þ{o}u blameȝ þe bote of þy meschef,
Þ{o}u art no kynde Iueler.” 276
[Sidenote 9: Looks like _husyeȝ_ in MS.]
[Sidenote: The father begs the maiden to excuse his speech, for
he really thought his pearl was wholly lost to him.]
A Iuel to me þen watȝ þys geste,
& iueleȝ wern hyr ge{n}tyl saweȝ,
“I-wyse,” q{uod} I, “my blysfol beste,
My grete dystresse þ{o}u al to-draweȝ, 280
To be excused I make requeste;
I trawed my perle don out of daweȝ,
Now haf I fonde hyt I schal ma feste,
& wony w{i}t{h} hyt i{n} schyr wod schaweȝ, 284
& loue my lorde & al his laweȝ,
Þat hatȝ me broȝ[t] þys blys ner;
Now were I at yow by-ȝonde þise waweȝ,
I were a ioyfol Iueler.” 288
[Sidenote: [Fol. 43a.]]
[Sidenote: The maiden tells her father that he has spoken
three words without knowing the meaning of one. The first word.
The second. The third.]
“Iueler,” sayde þat ge{m}me clene,
“Wy borde ȝe men, so madde ȝe be?
Þre wordeȝ hatȝ þ{o}u spoken at ene,
Vn-avysed, for soþe, wern alle þre, 292
Þou ne woste in worlde quat on dotȝ mene,
Þy worde byfore þy wytte con fle.
Þou says þ{o}u traweȝ me i{n} þis dene,
By cawse þ{o}u may w{i}t{h} yȝen me se; 296
Anoþ{er} þ{o}u says, i{n} þys cou{n}tre
Þy self schal won w{i}t{h} me ryȝt here;
Þe þrydde, to passe þys wat{er} fre,
Þat may no ioyfol Iueler. 300
[Headnote: DEATH IS THE ROAD TO PARADISE.]