Английская поэзия XIV–XX веков в современных русских переводах

“With al my mightё, and my beste entente,

With al the faith that mighty god of kynde

Me yaf, sith he me soule and knowing sente,

I chese, and to this bonde ever I me bynde,

To love you best, whyl I have lyf and mynde” —

Thus herde I foules in the dawёninge

Upon the day of saint Valentyne singe.

“Yet chese I, at the ginning, in this entente,

To love you, though I no mercy fynde;

And if you liste I dyed, I wolde assente,

As ever twinne I quik out of this lynde!

Suffyseth me to seen your fetheres ynde” —

Thus herde I foules in the morweninge

Upon the day of saint Valentyne singe.

“And over this, myn hertes lust to-bente,

In honour only of the wodёbynde,

Hoolly I yeve, never to repente

In joye or wo, wher-so that I wynde

Tofore Cupyde, with his eyёn blynde” —

The foules alle, whan Tytan did springe,

With dèvout herte, me thoughte I herde singe!

Lenvoy

Princesse of beautee, to you I represente

This simple dytè, rude as in makinge,

Of herte and wil faithful in myn entente,

Lyk as, this day, foules herde I singe.

Tarye no lenger; toward thyn heritage

Hast on thy weye, and be of ryght good chere.

Go eche day onward on thy pylgrymage;

Thynke howe short tyme thou hast abyden here.

Thy place is bygged above the sterres clere,

Noon erthly palys wrought in so statly wyse.

Come on, my frend, my brother most entere!

For the I offered my blood in sacryfice.

This worlde is ful of stablenesse,

Ther is therinne no variaunce;

But trowth, feith, and gentlenesse,

Secrenesse and assuraunce,

Plente, ioye, and al plesaunce —

Be ensample who can have rewarde,

Variably by resemblaunce

Right as the crab goth forewarde.

Ther is now founde no falsnesse,

Right is so myghty of puissaunce;

Feith hath exiled dowblenesse;

Fortune chaungeth not hir chaunce.

Byhest abideth on constaunce;

Frendship is founde no coward.

Light with derke hath accordaunce

Right as the crabbe goth foreward.

Princes sustene Rightwesnesse;

Knyghthode in trouth hath whet his launce.

Law hath putte mede in grete distresse

And avoyded hir acqueyntance.

Periurye in Engelond and in Fraunce

Is fled beyonde Mount Godarde;

Iurours with trouth hath aliaunce

Right as the crab goth forewarde.

Sergeantis, pleders of feithfulnesse,

Man made on guerdon a diffiaunce;

Consistories for holynesse

Betwene hem and mede is gret dystaunce.

Flaterie hath lost his contenaunce;

Plente is founde non nygarde.

Scarsitee is gon vnto myschaunce

Right as the crabbe goth forewarde.

Eche man hath ynowe richesse;

Pore folke fele no greuaunce.

Presthode lyveth in perfitnesse,

Kan in litel have suffisaunce.

Religion hath non attendaunce

Vnto the worlde, but al vpwarde

To the ensample in substance,

Right as the crab goth forewarde.

Take hede also by avysenesse —

Wymmen fro Cartage to Custaunce

Ibanshed have newfanglenesse,

Put in a place perseueraunce.

In clergie is perfite governaunce;

Mesoure with marchaunts is a chef stewarde;

Wight halt trewly ther balaunce,

Right as the crab goth forewarde.

Princes, the reuerence to expresse

Of euery thing by contenaunce —

Endendement double is chef maistras,

FaIs compassing by disseyvaunce,

Which causeth alwey grete disturbance,

French, English, Narman and Picard.

The heuenly signe maketh demonstraunce

Right as the crab goth forewarde!

Loke wel aboute, ye that lovers be;

Lat nat your lustes lede you to dotage;

Be nat enamoured on al thing that ye see.

Sampson the fort, and Salamon the sage

Deceived were, for al hir gret corage;

Men deme hit is right as they see at y;

Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.

I mene, in women, for al hir cheres queinte,

Trust nat to moche; hir trouthë is but geson;

The fairest outward ful wel can they peinte,

Hir stedfastnes endureth but a seson;

For they feyn frendlines and worchen treson.

And for they be chaungeáble naturally,

Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.

Though al the world do his besy cure

To make women stonde in stablenes,

Hit may nat be, hit is agayn nature;

The world is do whan they lak doublenes;

For they can laughe and love nat; this is expres.

To trust in hem, hit is but fantasy;

Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.

What wight on-lyve trusteth in hir cheres

Shal haue at last his guerdon and his mede;

They can shave nerer then rasóurs or sheres;

Al is nat gold that shyneth! Men, take hede;

Hir galle is hid under a sugred wede.

Hit is ful hard hir fantasy t’aspy;

Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.

Women, of kinde, have condicions three;

The first is, that they be fulle of deceit;

To spinne also hit is hir propertee;

And women have a wonderful conceit,

They wepen ofte, and al is but a sleight,

And whan they list, the tere is in the y;

Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.

What thing than eyr is lighter and meveable?

The light, men say, that passeth in a throw;

Al if the light be nat so variable

As is the wind that every wey can blow;

And yet, of reson, som men deme and trow

Women be lightest of hir company;

Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.

In short to say, though al the erth so wan

Were parchëmyn smothe, whyte and scribable,

And the gret see, cleped the occian,

Were torned in inke, blakker then is sable,

Ech stik a penne, ech man a scriveyn able,

They coud nat wryte wommannes traitory;

Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.

To London once my steps I bent,

Where truth in no wise should be faint;

To Westminster-ward I forthwith went,

To a man of Law to make complaint.

I said, “For Mary’s love, that holy saint,

Pity the poor that would proceed!”

But for lack of money, I could not speed.

And, as I thrust the press among,

By froward chance my hood was gone;

Yet for all that I stayed not long

Till to the King’s Bench I was come.

Before the Judge I kneeled anon

And prayed him for God’s sake take heed.

But for lack of money, I might not speed.

Beneath them sat clerks a great rout,

Which fast did write by one assent;

There stood up one and cried about

“Richard, Robert, and John of Kent!”

I wist not well what this man meant,

He cried so thickly there indeed.

But he that lacked money might not speed.

To the Common Pleas I yode tho,

There sat one with a silken hood:

I ’gan him reverence for to do,

And told my case as well as I could;

How my goods were defrauded me by falsehood;

I got not a mum of his mouth for my meed,

And for lack of money I might not speed.

Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence,

Before the clerks of the Chancery;

Where many I found earning of pence;

But none at all once regarded me.

I gave them my plaint upon my knee;

They liked it well when they had it read;

But, lacking money, I could not be sped.

In Westminster Hall I found out one,

Which went in a long gown of ray;

I crouched and knelt before him; anon,

For Mary’s love, for help I him pray.

“I wot not what thou mean’st”, ’gan he say;

To get me thence he did me bid,

For lack of money I could not speed.

Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor

Would do for me aught although I should die;

Which seing, I gat me out of the door;

Where Flemings began on me for to cry, —

“Master, what will you copen or buy?

Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read?

Lay down your silver, and here you may speed”.

Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor

Would do for me aught although I should die;

Which seing, I gat me out of the door;

Where Flemings began on me for to cry, —

“Master, what will you copen or buy?

Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read?

Lay down your silver, and here you may speed”.

To Westminster Gate I presently went,

When the sun was at high prime;

Cooks to me they took good intent,

And proffered me bread, with ale and wine,

Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine;

A faire cloth they ’gan for to spread,

But, wanting money, I might not then speed.

Then unto London I did me hie,

Of all the land it beareth the prize;

“Hot peascodes!” one began to cry;

“Strawberries ripe!” and “Cherries in the rise!”

One bade me come near and buy some spice;

Pepper and saffrone they ’gan me bede;

But, for lack of money, I might not speed.

Then to the Cheap I ‘gan me drawn,

Where much people I saw for to stand;

One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn;

Another he taketh me by the hand,

“Here is Paris thread, the finest in the land”;

I never was used to such things indeed;

And, wanting money, I might not speed.

Then I hied me into East Cheap:

One cries “Ribs of beef and many a pie!”

Pewter pots they clattered on a heap;

There was harpe, pipe, and minstrelsy:

“Yea, by cock!” “Nay, by cock!” some began cry;

Some sung of “Jenkin and Julian” for their meed;

But, for lack of money, I might not speed.

Then into Cornhill anon I yode

Where there was much stolen gear among;

I saw where hung my owne hood,

That I had lost among the throng:

To buy my own hood I thought it wrong;

I knew it as well as I did my creed;

But, for lack of money, I could not speed.

The Taverner took me by the sleeve;

“Sir”, saith he, “will you our wine assay?”

I answered, “That cannot much me grieve;

A penny can do no more than it may”.

I drank a pint, and for it did pay;

Yet, sore a-hungered from thence I yede;

And, wanting money, I could not speed.

Then hied I me to Billings-gate,

And one cried, “Ho! go we hence!”

I prayed a bargeman, for God’s sake,

That he would spare me my expense.

“Thou ’scap’st not here”, quoth he, “under twopence;

I list not yet bestow any almsdeed”.

Thus, lacking money, I could not speed.

Then I conveyed me into Kent;

For of the law would I meddle no more.

Because no man to me took intent,

I dight me to do as I did before.

Now Jesus that in Bethlehem was bore,

Save London and send true lawyers their meed!

For whoso wants money with them shall not speed.