BALLAD

Ever blessed be the day,

Be the place and be the dwelling,

That hath ended my delay,

Shown the truth I shrank from telling.

Dear friend, behold

My love is yours, a costlier gift than gold:

To Love be praise, that first the bond hath knit,

For I am filled with perfect joy from it.

Since I yielded to thy sway

When thy heart with grief was swelling,

Swiftly speeding as he may

Joy is come, my care dispelling:

Now am I bold

To give thee love, that guerdons manifold

May heal thee from thy sorrow every whit,

For I am filled with perfect joy from it.

So my soul, with God for stay,

The new blissful years foretelling,

Finds in thee, for whom I pray,

Grace and gladness all excelling.

I that of old

Gave thee but sorry cheer and comfort cold,

Am straightway turned to serve thee, as is fit,

For I am filled with perfect joy from it.

When I had told

My love, my heart was yours to have and hold:

To grief I yield not, nor to blame submit,

For I am filled with perfect joy from it.

In suchwise was happiness granted to me, even as you hear, and I pursued

it with joy and gladness. But fortune, who is ready, whensoe'er she can,

to do harm to lovers, straightway thought to do me very grievous hurt,

as I will relate in a few words.

It chanced, in a short while, that the lady who knew of our love, and

who concealed our doings, had business at home, from the which loss

would happen to her inheritance if she did not go there forthwith,

wherefore, sad and sorrowful, she departed from the Court. And as for

me, this caused me great grief, for I well knew that my lady would essay

naught without her. And on this account I was much distressed, for,

certes, I could in nowise rest without seeing her. And my lady knew this

well, and I am persuaded that it was not otherwise with her. So she then

bethought her of a lady who had likewise been in her service all her

life, and who was prudent and discreet, and good, loyal, and reserved,

although no longer did she live at Court. So she resolved to inquire of

her if she was willing to return. Therefore without delay she wrote this

letter to her, and received an answer from her.

_The Duchess_

_To my very dear and good friend_,

_The Lady of La Tour_.

_Very dear and kind Friend_,--Concerning my estate, be pleased

to know that I am in health, and I pray God to grant the same to

you. I write to you because of the desire which I have to see

you, and to speak with you, for I have not forgotten the good

and faithful service which you have alway rendered me, for the

which I hold myself so much bounden to you, that I can never

repay it. And be sure that you have a friend in me, and you can

put this to the proof whensoe'er you will. Dear lady and friend,

you well know how that I am controlled, and held in great

subjection and fear, and am harshly treated, and that my lot is

a very hard one, and allows me but little happiness, and that I

have no friend to whom I can make plaint and tell my secret

thoughts, the which I would not make confession of to any save

to you, from whom I would not hide aught any more than I would

from my confessor, for I know you to be so loyal, that I can

trust in you. You must know, therefore, that it is a very

grievous sorrow to a young heart always to live in disquiet, and

devoid of happiness. So I would that you were near me, and I

would tell you of very pleasing things, concerning the which,

with good reason, I do not write to you. And thus I have great

need of your aid and good counsel, wherefore I pray you, by all

the love you bear me, that, as soon as you have read this

letter, you so arrange your affairs that you may be ready to

come to me within a week from this, and I will send to fetch you

with all due honour. And do not be in anywise troubled about

leaving your household, for I pledge you my faith to make so

liberal recompense, that it will alway be to the advantage of

you and yours. And I pray you not to fail me in this, and to

send me, by the bearer of this letter, your favourable reply. I

commend me to your daughter-in-law. Dear, kind friend, may the

Holy Spirit have you in His keeping.

_Written in my Castle, the eighth day of January._

And my lady despatched a messenger, and sent this letter to the lady

whom she wholly regarded as her friend, and whom she much loved. And she

sent a reply, the which disquieted me, for it was very much to my

prejudice, and in this manner did she counsel her:--

_My very revered Lady_,--In the first place I send you my very

humble respects, and may it please you to know that I have

received your very loving and tender letter, for the which, with

all my unworthy heart, I thank you, and in the which you do me

so great honour as to have in remembrance the trivial services,

in nowise worthy of your honoured and noble self, which I

rendered you in the past, and thus I am beholden to you more

than I can ever deserve. As concerns my going to you at this

present, I very humbly beseech you, my very dear Lady, to hold

me excused, for, on my faith, my daughter is so grievously sick

that on no account can I leave her, and God knows how I am

troubled because of her sickness. But since, my very revered

Lady, I cannot hold speech with you as soon as I would, and I am

bound to counsel you as to your conduct, as one who has been

under my guidance from childhood until now, however unworthy I

have been of this, methinks I should be wrong if I kept silence

touching that which I knew might bring any trouble upon you if I

failed to make it known to you. Wherefore, dear Lady, I write

what follows, for the which I very humbly entreat of you in no

way to bear me ill-will, for you may be assured that very great

love, and the desire that your great renown and honour may ever

increase, moves me to this. My Lady, I have heard certain

rumours touching your conduct which grieve me from the bottom of

my heart because of the fear I have of the ruin of your good

name, to the which, as it seems to me, they tend, for it is

right and fitting for every princess and high-born lady, since

she is exalted in honour and estate above others, to exceed all

others in goodness, wisdom, manners, disposition, and behaviour,

to the end that she may be an ensample by the which other dames,

and even all womankind, should regulate their conduct. And thus

it is meet that she be devout toward God, and have a tranquil,

gentle, and calm demeanour, and in her diversions be restrained

and without excess, that she laugh with moderation and not

without cause, and have a stately carriage, modest look, and

dignified bearing, with a kindly response and a courteous word

for every one, her dress and attire rich but not too affected,

gracious in her welcome of strangers, in speech restrained and

not too familiar, not hasty in judgment or fickle, never

appearing harsh, capricious, or ill-humoured, or too difficult

to serve, humane and kind to her waiting-women and servants, not

too haughty, in giving bountiful within reason, knowing how to

recognise those who are the most worthy in goodness and

prudence, and her best servants, and to draw all these to her,

and recompense them according to their deserts, not trusting or

putting faith in flatterers, but recognising them, and driving

them from her, not lightly believing gossip, not given to the

habit of whispering either to stranger or to intimate friend in

any secret or solitary place, and in particular not to any of

her retainers or serving-women, so that none may be able to

think that he knows more than another of her private affairs,

never saying in jest to any one whomsoever, in the presence of

others, aught which may not be understood of all, so that those

hearing it may not imagine there to be some foolish secret

between them, and keeping herself neither too much confined to

her chamber, or to herself, nor too much in the sight of other

folk, but sometimes retiring, and at other times appearing

before others. And although the foregoing conditions, and all

other usages befitting a noble princess, were aforetime observed

by you, you now act quite otherwise, it is said, for you amuse

yourself much more, and have become more communicative and

mirthful than was your wont, and it is when the outward signs

are changed, that one usually judges the disposition to be

altered, and now you desire to be alone, and withdrawn from

others save one or two of your waiting-women, and some of your

dependants, with whom, even in the presence of others, you

consult privately, and titter, and talk secretly, as if you well

understood one another, and naught but the company of such

pleases you, and the others can in nowise serve you to your

liking, the which things and doings arouse envy in your other

servants, and cause them to think that your heart is enamoured

of some one. Ah, my very sweet Lady, for God's sake remember who

you are, and the high position to which God has raised you, and

consent not, for the sake of any foolish pleasure, to be

forgetful of your soul and your honour, and do not put trust in

the vain fancy which many young women have, who permit

themselves to believe that there is no wrong in loving with

tender passion provided this is not accompanied by any wrongful

act (and I am convinced that you would prefer death to this),

and that it makes life more pleasurable, and that one thus makes

a man gallant and renowned for aye. Ah, my dear Lady, it is

quite the reverse, and for God's sake do not deceive yourself,

or let yourself be deceived as to this, and take warning from

such noble ladies as you have seen in your time (and such there

are), who, through being merely suspected of such love, have,

without the truth ever becoming known, on this account lost both

honour and life. And yet on my soul I am satisfied that they had

neither sinned nor done aught that was wrong. Ne'ertheless their

children have seen them reproached and thought lightly of. And

however dishonourable such foolish love is in any woman, be she

rich or poor, it is still much more unbecoming and harmful in a

princess or a high-born lady, and the more so the more exalted

she is, and the reason of this is just, for the fame of a

princess extends everywhere, and hence, if there is any stain on

her good name, it is more known of in foreign lands than in the

case of simple folk, and, moreover, gives rise to doubts

concerning their offspring, who are destined to be rulers in the

land, and the princes of other folk. And it is a great

misfortune when there is any suspicion that they are not the

rightful heirs, and much trouble may come of it, for even if

there has been no wrong-doing, this will in nowise be believed

by those who have but heard it reported, "This lady is in love."

And because of a few tender glances, perchance given

thoughtlessly and without evil intent, malicious tongues will

pass judgment, and will add things about it the which were never

done or thought of, and thus the story, the which is never

diminished, but is ever being added to, passes from mouth to

mouth. And thus it is the more necessary for a noble lady than

for other women to pay great attention to all her words and ways

and demeanour, and the reason of this is, that, in the presence

of a noble lady, every one pays attention to her, both to hear

what she will say, and also to attentively take note of all her

doings. And thus the lady cannot look, speak, laugh, or jest,

without all being put together, discussed, and borne in mind of

many, and then reported broadcast. Bethink you, therefore, my

very dear Lady, that it may have a very bad appearance when a

high-born lady, and indeed any woman, becomes gay and mirthful,

and willing to listen to amorous discourse, more than is her

wont, and then, when for any reason she changes her mind, of a

sudden becomes discontented, ungracious, and on her defence, and

no one can serve her to her satisfaction, and she takes no

trouble about her dress or apparel. Certes, folk then say that

she must have been in love, but is so no longer. My Lady, this

is in nowise demeanour becoming to a lady, for, whate'er may be

her intentions, she should alway have a care so to demean and

conduct herself, that such judgments cannot be passed on her,

and although it may well be that, in a matter of love, it is

difficult to maintain such moderation, the most sure way to this

end is to wholly eschew and shun it. Thus you may know, dear

Lady, that every noble lady, and every other woman likewise,

should be far more desirous to acquire a fair name than any

other treasure, for this reflects honour on her, and ever dures

to her and her children. Revered Lady, as I have erewhile

observed, I wholly realise and bear in mind that the influence

which can dispose a young woman to incline to such love, is that

youth, and ease, and indolence cause her to say to herself, "You

are young, you must enjoy yourself, you can well love without

wrong-doing, and this is in nowise evil when it is without sin,

you will make a man valiant, no one will know of it, you will

live more merrily because of it, and you will have won a true

servant and a loyal friend, and, therefore, all your desire."

Ah, my Lady, for God's sake have a care that you be not deceived

by such foolish fancies; for, as far as concerns happiness, be

assured that in love affairs there is an hundred thousand times

more of grief, of care, and of perilous risk, especially for the

ladies, than there is of happiness. Moreover, whiles that love

of itself brings in its train many divers troubles, the fear of

the loss of honour, and that this may become known (the which

makes such pleasure dearly bought), continually haunts the mind.

And as to saying, "There can be no harm in this, since it will

not result in sin," alas, my Lady, no one can by any means be so

sure of herself as to be certain that, however good her

resolution may be, she will alway keep herself in restraint in

the matter of love made in this wise, or that it will not be

discovered, as I have said before. Of a truth, this is not

possible, for never is there fire without smoke, but there is

often smoke without fire. And to say, "I shall make a man

valiant," certes, I declare that it is very great folly to ruin

oneself in order to advance another, even if he be made brave

thereby, and surely does she bring ruin upon herself who

degrades herself for the sake of exalting another. And as to

saying, "I shall have gained a true friend and servant," good

God! in what manner could such a friend or servant advantage a

lady? For if she were in any trouble, he would not dare concern

himself in anywise on her behalf, for fear of her dishonour.

Therefore how could such a servant, who would not risk himself

in her service, be of profit to her? And though there are some

who say they serve their ladies when that they achieve great

things, either in arms or in other ways, I say that they serve

themselves, since the honour and the profit of it remains to

them, and in nowise to the lady. And yet again, my Lady, if you

or any other would make excuse by saying, "Mine is a sad lot,

the which allows me but little freedom and happiness, and

because of this I can, without wrong-doing, have pleasure in

another in order to dispel melancholy and to pass the time,"

assuredly never, with submission to your honoured self and all

others who speak thus, does such excuse avail aught, for very

foolish is he who sets fire to his own house in order to burn

that of his neighbour, but she who bears with such a husband

patiently, and without discrediting herself, so much the more

increases the good renown of herself and of her honour. And as

to having pleasure, certes a noble lady, and indeed every woman,

can, if she will, find, without such love as this, enough of

lawful and fitting pleasures to the which to give herself up,

and with the which to pass the time without melancholy. For

those who have children, what more agreeable or delightful

pleasure can be desired than to see them oft, and to have a care

that they are well nourished and instructed as befits their

noble birth and estate, and to train the daughters in suchwise

that from childhood they may, from the example of good company,

form the habit of living in a proper and seemly manner? But if

the mother is not prudent in all ways, what sort of an ensample

is she, alas, to the daughters? And for those who have no

children, certes it is not unworthy of any noble lady, after she

has had care for her household, to betake her to some work, in

order to avoid idleness, either working fine linen or silken

apparel with rare broidery, or other things of the which she can

make fitting use, and such occupations are wise, and prevent

idle thoughts. But in nowise do I say that a young and noble

lady may not rightly divert herself, and laugh, and play, at

seasonable times, even in the presence of lords and gentlemen,

or that she may not, so far as is befitting to her position, do

honour to strangers, to each one according to his rank, but this

should be done so soberly, and in such modest fashion, that

there be not a single glance, or laugh, or word, the which is

not under due restraint, and within proper bounds, and she

should ever be on her guard that it may not be possible to

discover in her aught that is unworthy or unseemly, either in

word, look, or behaviour. Ah, God! If every noble lady, and in

truth every woman, rightly knew how such virtuous demeanour

becomes her, the more would she be at pains to possess this

adornment rather than any other whatsoever, for no precious

jewel is there which can adorn her so well. And further, my very

dear Lady, it remains to speak of the perils and difficulties

which accompany such love, the which are without number. The

first and greatest is that it angers God, and then if the

husband or kinsfolk discover it, the woman is ruined, or falls

under reproach, and never after has she any happiness. And

again, even if this does not come to pass, let us consider the

disposition of lovers, for though all were loyal, secret, and

truthful (the which they by no means are, since it is well known

that they are generally faithless, and, in order to deceive the

ladies, say that which they neither think on nor would do),

ne'ertheless of a surety it is true that the ardour of such love

does not dure for long, even with the most loyal. Ah, dear Lady!

be warned that truly you cannot conceive the troublous thought

which dwells in her breast when it comes to pass that this love

is at an end, and the lady, who has been blinded by the

environment of foolish delight, grievously repents her when she

perceives and meditates on the distractions and the divers

perils the which she has ofttimes encountered, and how much she

would, whatever it had cost her, that this had never chanced to

her, and that she could not be thus reproached. And, moreover,

you and every lady can see what folly it is to put one's person

and one's honour at the mercy of the tongues, and in the power,

of such servants, for they call themselves servants, although,

for the most part, the ending of the service is such that,

although they have made promise unto you, and have sworn, to

keep the secret, they in no wise hold their peace concerning it,

and in the end the ladies are ofttimes left with the reproach of

such love, and the gossip of folk concerning it, or, at the very

least, with the fear and dread in their hearts that those very

ones in whom they have put their trust, talk of it, and make

boast of it, to any one else who knows of the affair, and thus

they are delivered over from freedom to bondage, and behold the

end of such love! Do you not perceive, my Lady, that it seems to

these servants to be greatly to their credit to say, and to make

boast, that they are, or have been, loved of a very noble

mistress, or a woman of high rank, and how that they suppress

the truth concerning it? But God knows how they lie, and may He

grant that, as regards you, my Lady, you may know it well, for

you will have need to bear it in mind. And since, my Lady, you

love ballads and ditties, I send you one touching on this

subject, written by a clever master, if you will do me the

favour to take notice of it. And the servants, too, who know

your secret, and whom it behoves you to trust, think you, i'

faith, that they keep silence concerning this, albeit you have

made them swear to do so? Certes, the greater number of them are

such that they would be very much vexed if it were not noised

abroad that they have much greater intimacy and authority with

you than have the others, and if they do not openly proclaim

your secrets, they hint at them by means of divers covert signs,

the which they think are duly observed. Good God, what a slave

is the lady, and any other woman in the like case, who dares not

reprove or blame her serving men or women, even if she sees that

they behave them very ill, for that she perceives herself to be

in their power, and that they have risen up against her in such

arrogance that she dares not utter a word, and is thus

constrained to endure at their hands that which she would not

endure from any other! And what, think you, do those say who see

and pay heed to this? These only pay attention to that which

they see, and be sure that they ofttimes whisper it abroad, and

if it chances that the lady is angered, or sends away her

servant, God knows that all will be revealed, and made known

everywhere. And yet it ofttimes happens that they are, and have

been, the means and the cause of bringing into being this love,

the which they have encouraged with zeal and great diligence, in

order to gain for themselves either gifts, or offices, or other

emoluments. Very honoured Lady, what shall I say concerning

this? Be assured that as soon as one sifts the matter to the

bottom, one discovers all the mischievous perils which this

amorous life entails; and do not doubt this, for so it is. And

because of this, very dear Lady, do not cast yourself into such

peril, and if you have any thought of it, for God's sake

withdraw from it before greater evil to you comes of it, for

better is it to do this betimes than late, and late than never,

and already you can see what will be said about it if that you

persevere in your unwonted ways, when even now they are

perceived, and in consequence of this are talked of in many

places. Thus I know not what further to write to you, save that,

to the utmost of my power, I humbly entreat of you not to take

this from me in bad part, but may it please you to be assured of

the good intent which constrains me to say it, and very much

rather would I do my duty by loyally admonishing you, and

causing you to be an-angered, than either counsel you to your

ruin, or keep silence concerning it in order to have your

goodwill. My Lady, be pleased to pay heed to my ballad, the

which I enclose herewith. Very honoured Princess, and my dear

Lady, I pray God to give you a happy and long life, and

paradise.--Written at La Tour, this 18th day of January

Your very humble servant,

_Sebille de Monthault_, Lady of La Tour.