The Works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 12

THE FLOUR AND THE LEFE

THE ARGUMENT

A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove seeth a great company of knights and ladies in a dance upon the green grass; the which being ended, they all kneel down and do honour to the daisie, some to the Flower, and some to the Leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth, by one of these ladies, the meaning hereof, which is this: They which honour the Flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly pleasure; but they that honour the Leaf, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter storms, are they which follow virtue and during qualities, without regard of worldly respects.

When that Phœbus his chair of gold so hie

Had whirlid up the sterrie sky aloft,

And in the Bole was entrid certainly,

When shouris sote of rain descendid soft,

Causing the ground felè timis and oft

Up for to give many an wholesome air,

And every plain was yclothid faire:

With newè grene, and makith smalè flours

To springin here and there in field and mede,

So very gode and wholesome be the shours,

That they renewn that was old and dede

In winter time, and out of every sede

Springith the herbè, so that every wight

Of this seson wexith richt glade and licht.

And I so gladè of the seson swete,

Was happid thus; upon a certain night

As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete

Was unto me, but why that I ne might

Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight

had more of hertis ese

Than I, for I n'ad sicknesse nor disese:

Wherefore I mervaile gretly of my self

That I so long withoutin slepè lay,

And up I rose thre houris aftir twelfe,

About the springing of the gladsome day,

And on I put my gear and mine aray,

And to a plesaunt grove I gan to pas

Long or the bright sonne uprisin was;

In which were okis grete, streight as a line,

Undir the which the grass so freshe of hewe

Was newly sprong, and an eight fote or nine

Every tre well fro his fellow grew,

With braunchis brode laden with levis new,

That sprongin out agen the sonne shene:

Some very rede, and some a glad light grene:

Which was a right plesaunt sight;

And eke the birdis songis for to here

Would have rejoisid any erthly wight,

And I, that couth not yet in no manere

Herein the nightingale of all the yere,

Full busily herk'nid with hert and ere

If I her voice perceve could any where:

And at the last a path of litil brede

I found, that gretly had not usid be,

For it forgrowin was with grass and wede,

That well unnethis a wight might it se;

Thought I, this path some whider doth parde;

And so I followid till it me brought

To a right plesant herbir wel ywrought,

Which that benchid was, and with turfis new

Freshly turvid, whereof the grene grass

So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hewe,

That most like to grene woll wot I it was;

The hegge also, that yedin in compas,

And closid in allè the grene herbere,

With sycamor was set and eglatere.

Within, in fere so well and cunningly,

That every braunch and lefe grew by mesure

Plain as a bord, of an height by and by,

I se nevir a thing

So well ydone, for he that toke the cure

It for to make did all his peine

To mak it pas al tho that men have seine.

And shapin was this herber rofe and al

As is a pretty parlour, and also

The hegge as thick as is a castil wall,

That who that list without to stond or go,

Thogh he wold al day prayin to and fro,

He should not se if there were any wight

Within or no, but one within well might —

Perceve all tho that ydin there without

Into the field, that was on every side

Coverd with corn and grass, that out of doubt

Tho one would sekin all the worlde wide

So rich a felde could not be espyde

Upon no cost, as of the quantity,

For of allè gode thing there was plenty.

And I, that al these plesaunt sightis se,

Thought suddainly I felt so swete an air

Of the eglaterè, that certainly

There is no hert in such dispair,

Ne yet with thoughtis froward and contraire

So overlaid, but it should sone have bote

If it had onis felt this savour sote.

And as I stode and cast aside mine eye

I was ware of the fairist medler tre

That evir yet in all my life I se,

As full of blossomis as it might be,

Therein a goldfinch leping pretily

From bough to bough, and as him list he ete

Here and there of buddis and flouris swete.

And to the herbir side was adjoyning

This fairist tre of which I have you told,

And at the last the bird began to sing

So passing swetely that by many fold

It was more plesaunt than I couth devise;

And whan his song was endid in this wise,

The nightingale with so mery a note

Answerid him, that alle the wode yrong

So sodainly, that as it were a sote

I stode astonied, and was with the song

Thorow ravishid, that till late and long

I ne wist in what place I was ne where,

Ayen methought she song e'en by mine ere:

Wherefore I waited about busily

On every side if I her might se,

And at the last I gan full well espie

Where she sate in a fresh grene laury tre,

On the further side evin right by me,

That gave so passing a delicious smell,

According to the eglantere full well;

Whereof I had so inly grete plesure,

As methought I surely ravished was

Into Paradise, wherein my desire

Was for to be, and no ferthir to pas

As for that day, and on the sotè grass

I sat me down, for as for mine entent

The birdis song was more convenient,

And more plesaunt to me by many fold

Than mete or drink, or any othir thing,

Thereto the herbir was so fresh and cold,

The wholsome savours eke so comforting,

That sith the beginning

Of the worldè was nevir seen er than

So plesaunt a ground of none erthly man.

And as I sat the birdis herkening thus,

Methought that I herd voicis suddainly,

The most swetist and most delicious

That evir any wight I trow trewly

Herdin in hir life, for the armony

And swete accord was in so gode musike

That the voicis to angels most were like.

At the last out of a grove evin by

I se where there came singing lustily

A world of ladies, but to tell aright

Ther beauty grete lyith not in my might,

Ne ther array; nevirthèless I shall

Tell you a pert, tho' I speke not of all:

The surcots white of velvet well fitting

They werin clad, and the semis eche one,

As it werin a mannir garnishing,

Was set with emeraudis one and one

By and by, but many a richè stone

Was set on the purfilis out of dout

Of collours, sleves, and trainis, round about;

As of grete perlis round and orient,

And diamondis fine and rubys red,

And many othir stone of which I went

The namis now; and everich on her hede

A rich fret of gold, which withoutin drede

Was full of statèly rich stonys set,

And evrey lady had a chapelet,

On ther hedis of braunchis fresh and grene,

So wele ywrought, and so marvelously,

That it was a right noble sight to sene,

Some of laurir, and some full plesauntly

Had chapèlets of wodebind, and sadly

Some of agnus castus werin also,

Chaplets fresh; but there were many of tho,

That dauncid and eke song full sobirly,

But all they yede in maner of compace;

But one there yede in mid the company

Sole by herself; but all follow'd the pace

That she keept, whose hevinly figured face

So pleasaunt was, and her wele shape person,

That of beauty she past them everichone,

And more richly beseen by manyfold

She was also in every manir thing;

Upon her hede full plesaunt to behold

A coron of gold rich for any king,

A braunch of agnus castus eke bering

In her hand, and to my sight trewily

She lady was of all the compagnie;

And she began a roundell lustily

That

Sus le foyle de vert moy

 men call

Sine & mon joly cœur est endormy

,

And than the company answerid all,

With voicis swete entunid and so small,

That methought it the swetest melody

That evir I herd in my lyf sothly.

And thus they all came dauncing and singing

Into the middis of the mede echone,

Before the herbir where I was sitting,

And God wot I thought I was well bigone,

For than I might avise them one by one

Who fairist was, who best could dance or sing,

Or who most womanly was in all thing.

They had not dauncid but a little throw

When that I herd not fer of sodainly

So grete a noise of thundering trumpis blow

As though it should have departid the skie,

And aftir that within a while I sie

From the same grove where the ladies came out

Of men of armis coming such a rout,

As all men on erth had ben assemblid,

On that place well horsid for the nonis,

Stering so fast that all the erth tremblid;

But for to speke of richis and stonis,

And men and horse, I trow the large wonis

Of Pretir John, ne all his tresory,

Might not unneth have bought the tenth party.

Of their array whoso list to here more,

I shall reherse so as I can a lite,

Out of the grove that I speke of before

I se come first, all in their clokis white,

A company that wore for ther delite

Chapèlets fresh of okis serial

But newly sprong, and trumpets were they all;

On every trump hanging a brode bannere

Of fine tartarium, full richly bete,

Every trumpet his lord'is armis bere

About ther nekkis, with grete perlis sete,

Collaris brode, for cost they wou'd not lete,

As it would seem, for ther scochons echone

Were set about with many a precious stone;

Ther horsis harneis was all white also;

And aftir them next in one company

Camin kingis at armis and no mo,

In clokis of white cloth with gold richly,

Chaplets of grene on ther heds on hye,

The crownis that they on ther scotchons bere

Were set with perl, and ruby, and saphere,

And eke grete diamondis many one;

But all ther horsis harneis and other gere

Was in a sute according everichone,

As ye have herd the foresaid trumpets were,

And by seming they were nothing to lere,

And ther guiding they did so manirly;

And aftir them came a gret company

Of heraudeis and pursevauntis eke,

Arrayid in clothis of white velvet,

And hardily they were nothing to seke

How they on them shouldin the harneis set,

And every man had on a chapèlet,

Scotchonis and eke horse harneis in dede

They had in sute of them that 'fore them yede.

Next after these appere in armour bright,

All save ther hedis, semely knightis nine,

And every clasp and nail, as to my sight,

Of ther harneis were of red gold so fine,

With cloth of gold, and furrid with ermine,

Were the tappouris of their stedis strong,

Both wide and large, that to the ground did hong;

And every boss of bridle and paitrel

That they had on was worth, as I would wene,

A thousand pound; and on ther hedis well

Dressid were crounis of the laurir grene,

The best ymade that evir I had sene;

And every knight had aftir him riding

Thre henchmen, still upon him awaiting;

Of which every (first) on a short trunchon

His lord'is helmet bore so richly dight

That the worst of them was worth the ransoume

Of any king; the second a shield bright

Bare at his back; the thred barin upright

A mighty spere, full sharp yground and kene,

And every child ware of levis grene

A fresh chap'let upon his hairis bright;

And clokis white of fine velvet they were;

Ther stedis trappid and arayid right,

Without difference as ther lordis were;

And aftir them on many a fresh coursere

There came of armid knightis such a rout

That they besprad the large field about;

And all they werin, aftir ther degrees,

Chappèlets new, or made of laurir grene,

Or some of oke, or some of othir trees,

Some in ther hondis barin boughis shene,

Some of laurir, and some of okis bene,

Some of hawthorne, and some of the wodebind,

And many mo which I have not in mind.

And so they came ther horse freshly stirring

With bloudy sownis of ther trompis loud;

There se I many an uncouth disguising

In the array of thilkè knightis proud;

And at the last as evenly as they coud

They toke ther place in middis of the mede,

And every knight turnid his horsis hede

To his felow, and lightly laid a spere

Into the rest, and so justis began

On every part aboutin here and there;

Some brake his spere, some threw down horse and man,

About the felde astray the stedis ran;

And to behold their rule and govirnance

I you ensure it was a grete plesaunce.

And so the justis last an hour and more

But tho that crownid were in laurir grene

Did win the prise; their dintis were so sore

That there was none agenst them might sustene,

And the justing allè was left off clene;

And fro ther horse the nine alight anon,

And so did all the remnaunt everichone;

And forth they yede togidir twain and twain,

That to behold it was a worthy sight,

Toward the ladies on the grenè plain,

That song and dauncid, as I said now right;

The ladies as sone as they godely might

They brakin off both the song and the dance

And yede to mete them with full glad semblaunce:

And every lady toke full womanly

By the hond a knight, and so forth they yede

Unto a faire laurir that stode fast by,

With levis laid, the boughis of grete brede,

And to my dome ther nevir was indede

A man that had sene half so faire a tre,

For undirneth it there might well have be

An hundrid persons at ther own plesaunce

Shadowid fro the hete of Phœbus bright,

So that they shouldin have felt no grevance

Neithir for rain, ne haile, that them hurt might;

The savour eke rejoice would any wight

That hed be sick or melancholious,

It was so very gode and vertuous.

And with grete rev'rence they enclinid low

Unto the tre so sote and fair of hew,

And aftir that within a litil throw

They all began to sing and daunce of new;

Some song of love, some plaining of untrew,

Environing the tre that stode upright,

And evir yede a lady and a knight.

And at the last I cast mine eie aside,

And was ware of a lusty company

That came roming out of the feldè wide,

And hond in hond a knight and a lady,

The ladies all in surcotes, that richly

Purfilid were with many a rich stone,

And every knight of grene ware mantlis on,

Embroulid wele, so as the surcots were,

And everich had a chapelet on her hed,

Makid of godely flouris white and red,

The knightis eke that they in hondè led

In sute of them ware chaplets everichone,

And before them went minstrels many one;

As harpis, pipis, lutis, and sautry,

Allè in grene, and on ther hedis bare

Of diverse flouris made ful craftily,

Al in a sute, godely chaplets they ware,

And so dauncing into the mede they fare,

In mid the which they found a tuft that was

Al ovirsprad with flouris in compas:

Whereto they enclined evèrichone

With grete revèrence, and that full humbly;

And at the last there tho began anon

A lady for to sing right womanly

A bargaret in praising the daisie,

For (as methought) among her notis swete

She said

Si douce est la Margarete

!

Then they allè answerid her in fere

So passingly well and so plesauntly,

That it was a most blisfull noise to here;

But I 'not how it happid, sodainly

As about none the sonne so fervently

Waxe hotè that the pretty tendir floures

Had lost the beauty of their fresh collours.

For shronke with hete the ladies eke to brent,

That they ne wist where they them might bestow,

The knightis swelt, for lack of shade nie shent,

And aftir that within a litil throw

The wind began so sturdily to blow

That down goth all the flowris everichone,

So that in all the mede there laft not one,

Save such as succoured were among the leves

Fro every storme that mightè them assaile,

Growing undir the heggis and thick greves;

And aftir that there came a storme of haile

And rain in fere, so that withoutin faile

The ladies ne the knightis n'ade o' thred

Dry on them, so drooping wet was ther wede.

And when the storme was clene passid away

Tho in the white, that stode undir the tre,

They felt nothing of all the grete affray

That they in grene without had in ybe;

To them they yede for routh and for pite,

Them to comfort aftir their grete disese,

So fain they were the helplesse for to ese.

Than I was ware how one of them in grene

Had on a coron rich and well-fitting,

Wherefore I demid well she was a quene,

And tho in grene on her were awaiting;

The ladies then in white that were coming

Towardis them, and the knightis in fere,

Began to comfort them and make them chere.

The quene in white, that was of grete beauty,

Toke by the honde the quene that was in grene,

And seidè, Sustir, I have grete pity

Of your annoy and of your troublous tene

Wherein ye and your company have bene

So long, alas! and if that if you plese

To go with me I shall do you the ese

In al the plesure that I can or may;

Whereof that othir, humbly as she might,

Thankid her, for in right evil array

She was with storme and hete I you behight;

And evèry lady then anon right

That were in white one of them toke in grene

By the hond, which when the knightis had sene

In like manir eche of them toke a knight

Clad in the grene, and forth with them they fare

To an heggè, where that they anon right

To makin these justis they would not spare

Boughis to hew down, and eke trees to square,

Wherewith they made them stately firis grete

To dry ther clothis, that were wringing wete:

And aftir that of herbis that there grew

They made for blistirs of the sonne brenning

Ointmentis very gode, wholsome and new,

Where that they yede the sick fast anointing;

And after that they yede about gadring

Plesant saladis, which they made them ete

For to refreshe ther grete unkindly hete.

The lady of the Lefè then gan to pray

Her of the Floare [for so to my seming

They should be callid as by ther array]

To soupe with her, and eke for any thing

That she should with her all her pepill bringe,

And she ayen in right godely manere

Thankith her fast of her most frendly chere,

Saying plainèly that she would obay

With all her hert all her commandèment;

And then anon without lengir delay

The lady of the Lefe hath one ysent

To bring a palfray aftir her intent,

Arrayid wele in fair harneis of gold,

For nothing lackid that to him long shold.

And aftir that to all her company

She made to purvey horse and every thing

That they nedid, and then full hastily

Even by the herbir where I was sitting

They passid all, so merrily singing

That it would have comfortid any wight:

But then I se a passing wondir sight,

For then the nightingale, that all the day

Had in the laurir sete, and did her might

The whole service to sing longing to May,

All sodainly began to take her flight,

And to the lady of the Lefe forthright

She flew, and set her on her hand softly,

Which was a thing I mervailed at gretly.

The goldfinch eke, that fro the medlar tre

Was fled for hete unto the bushis cold,

Unto the lady of the Flowre gan fle,

And on her hond he set him as he wold,

And plesauntly his wingis gan to fold,

And for to sing they peine them both as sore

As they had do of all the day before.

And so these ladies rode forth a grete pace,

And all the rout of knightis eke in fere;

And I that had sene all this wondir case

Thought that I would assay in some manere

To know fully the trouth of this mattere,

And what they were that rode so plesauntly:

And when they were the herbir passid by

I drest me forth, and happid mete anon

A right fair lady, I do you ensure,

And she came riding by her self alone,

Allè in white, with semblaunce full demure;

I her salued, bad her gode avinture

Mote her befall, as I coud most humbly,

And she answered, My doughtir, gramercy!

Madame, quod I, if that I durst enquere

Of you, I wold fain of that company

Wit what they be that passed by this herbere.

And she ayen answerid right frendly,

My doughtir, all tho that passid hereby

In white clothing be servants everichone

Unto the Lefe, and I my self am one.

See ye not her that crownid is (quod she)

Allè in white? Madame, then quod I, Yes.

That is Dian, goddess of Chastity,

And for bicause that she a maidin is

Into her hond the brance she berith this

That agnus castus men call propirly;

And all the ladies in her company

Which ye se of that herbè chaplets were

Be such as han alwey kept maidinhede,

And all they that of laurir chaplets bere,

Be such as hardy were in manly dede

Victorious, name which nevir may be dede,

And all they were so worthy of their honde

In their time that no one might them withstonde;

And tho that were chapèlets on ther hede

Of fresh wodebind be such as nevir were

To Love untrue in word, in thought, ne dede,

But ay stedfast, ne for plesance ne fere,

Tho that they shulde ther hertis all to tere,

Woud never flit, but evir were stedfast

Till that ther livis there assundir brast.

Now, fair Madame! quod I, yet would I pray

Your ladiship

That I might knowe by some manir of wey,

Sithin that it hath likid your beaute

The trouth of these ladies for to tell me,

What that these knightis be in rich armour,

And what tho be in grene and were the Flour,

And why that some did rev'rence to the tre,

And some unto the plot of flouris fair?

With right gode wil, my doughtir fair! quod she,

Sith your desire is gode and debonaire:

Tho nine crounid be very exemplaire

Of all honour longing to chivalry,

And those certain be clept, The Nine Worthy,

Which that ye may se riding all before,

That in ther time did many a noble dede,

And for ther worthiness full oft have bore

The crown of laurir levis on ther hede,

As ye may in your oldè bokis rede,

And how that he that was a conqueror

Had by laurir alwey his most honour:

And tho that barin bowes in ther hond

Of the precious laurir so notable,

Be such as were

Most noble Knightis of The Round Table,

And eke the Douseperis honourable,

Which they bere in the sign of victory,

As witness of ther dedis mightily:

Eke ther be Knightis old of the Gartir,

That in ther timis did right worthily,

And the honour they did to the laurir

Is for by it they have ther laud wholly,

Ther triumph eke and martial glory,

Which unto them is more perfite riches

Than any wight imagin can or gesse;

For one Lefe givin of that noble tre

To any wight that hath done worthily

Is more honour than any th