# Romance of the Rose - On Marriage ## expand\_more ### Guillaume de Lorris and Jean de Meun (Clopinel) Le roman de la rose (13th Cent.) ## On Marriage Sort **8830** **8840** **8850** **8860** **8870** **8880** **8890** **8900** **8910** **8920** **8930** **8940** **8950** **8960** **8970** **8980** **8990** **9000** **9010** **9020** **9030** **9040** **9050** **9060** **9070** **9080** **9090** **9100** **9110** **9120** **9130** **9140** **9150** **9160** **9170** **9180** **9190** **9200** **9210** **9220** **9230** **9240** **42 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** \[ *the birds sing*\] With the sweet latin of their lay That welcome cried to dawning day. Soft Zephirus, and eke his wife, Dame Flora, queen of flowers, new life Gave to the meads where'er they went, And every verdant laund besprent With opening buds, which gladly her Worshipped as dame and verderer. For these, to speed young lovers, go Across the teeming earth and sow Sweet flowers a-tint with varied hues, Which amorous swains and maidens use To twine amid their flowing hair In chaplets fragrant, fresh and fair, And 'tis for such they love to spread Gay counterpanes right well bestead With countless flowrets in such wise As seems, forsooth, to mock the skies, With stars all gloriously beseen. On couches thus bedecked I ween, From jealousy and envy free They mingled in felicity Secure, with soft embrace and kiss, 'Neath sheltering boughs in heaven-like bliss. The branches joined above them made A fretted roof of cooling shade. And there right joyously they spent The jolly time in merriment And carolling and amorous play, As simple men for whom the day Was ne'er too long, nor sad nor dull, For all the world was beautiful. **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 43** 'Neath tyranny did no man wince, For not as yet had king or prince Claimed others having, but all shared Earth's gifts in common lot, and fared One as another; none possessed, Therefore were none by lack distressed. Though Ovid's saying nought they knew, Which none but fools would doubt for true: Never can love and seigniory Travel together, nor can they be In any case fit spouse and bride, High rule sets equal love aside. **XLVIII** *This notes how ill bred men will cry "Out" on their wives through jealousy, Calling them names I scarce dare tell, As minx, jade, harlot, Jezebel.* AND thus 'tis seen that strange conceit Of wisdom eggs fools on to treat Their spouses ill, to such degree That they misuse them brutally, Saying that too much time they spend In dancing, or too often wend In company with some young blade With whom they've assignation made, And ask them how they love expect From husbands if they dare reject Their counsels, deeming they alone, Their wives, both body and goods, should own. Cries one: Your air is far too gay, And why this mincing mien, I pray? **44 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** Soon as I sally forth to work, Away you start, with smile and smirk, Ready-for some wild prank or game, Whereat your cheeks should burn for shame, Singing aloud like siren sleek -- God curse you with an evil week. When business drags me far from home To Frisia's shores, or e'en to Rome, At once you mount coquettish dress, That leaves but little room to guess My lot, till neighbours talk thereon. And when they ask wherefore you don Such gay attire while I'm away, With brazen impudence you'll say In mocking tones: Oho! oho! 'Tis that I love my husband so. But I, poor wretch, may mope and grieve, Who careth, whether I forge or weave, Or whether alive or dead am I? Then one would hit me in the eye With bladder reft from goat or sheep, And all the world but holds me cheap. Because to beat you I've forborne, While nought I win from you but scorn, You brag! though well 'tis known you lie. Alack! alack! a fool was I With such a pair of gloves to cramp My hands -- but I the bit may champ. Alas! a fool's cap 'twas I wore That day when you obedience swore In church, and I, poor idiot dreamed You'd later prove what then you seemed. **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 45** How could it be supposed that e'er A bold and brazen face you'd bear Towards the lecherous wanton wights Who follow loose-lived girls o' nights? For whom, I ask, do you prepare The chestnuts I'm not asked to share? 'Twould seem indeed that you are fain Of me as shield against the rain, And pose you as a ring-dove simple But how about that ample cloak And soft, beneath your modest wimple. 'Neath which fine gallants know to poke Themselves in tête-á-tête? I swear, Except for shame and kindness 'twere, I'd not for bezants four of gold, Your trouncing, well deserved, withhold, But use my stick to bate your pride, Which sorely hath my patience tried. For know that vastly 'tis to me Displeasing that you decked should be To join in carol, song, or dance, Without my leave and countenance. **XLIX** *The jealous husband scolds his wife, Remonstrates, blames her course of life, And setteth forth his dire distress At what he calls her wantonness.* MOREOVER, nought can I conceal The righteous anger that I feel When Robichon, with head-gear green, Aye ready at your beck is seen. **46 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** Is there some land that be and you Should share, and hence this fine ado You sit and list his fluting tales With heads close set till daylight fails My blood nigh boils with rage to see You carry on so shamelessly. I swear 'fore God, who lieth never, That either you your friendship sever With him, or else from forth my door You go with face of blackamoor, For, help me God, unless you chase From out your heart all track and trace Of this loose love, your features I Will beat and batter till you cry For mercy, and agree to drop That cackle I'm resolved to stop. Alone, you ne'er the public way Shall tread, but serve me night and day At home, made sure with iron-chained hands. Think you a woman e'er commands Her husband's love who gads about With dangling men, week in, week out? And if they follow you, 'tis plain That you encourage them amain, For they'd not dare to make pretence Of love, but for your impudence. The devil's prompting 'twas that made Me marry such a wanton jade. Ha! would I'd Theophrastus read Ere, like a fool, I thrust my head In wedlock's noose: No man, saith he, Who's blest with fair sagacity **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 47** Will take a wife, or poor or rich, As goddess fair, or like a witch Bewrinkled -- he hath writ the whole Within his book hight "Aureole," Which treats of marriage: Ha! he cries, Man's life is filled with miseries, Troubles, and ills, on every side, Induced by the insensate pride Of women, their demands and plaints Such trouble cause as life attaints With miseries manifold; alack! Hard task hath he who striveth back To call them to a decent sense Of modesty and reverence. Whoso will take one indigent To wife, must wonder not if spent His substance be in gowns and shoes; And if a wealthy wife one choose, He need not marvel if disdain She showeth towards him, or if vain And proud she prove, and not a fly She valueth his authority, And further, will perhaps engage To vilify his lineage ; Till he to madness will be stung, Through clack of her unbridled tongue. Or is she fair? At once a cloud Of suitors round her footsteps crowd, Hustle and bustle, push, dispute, While each one strives to press his suit, And find out what may please her best, Here anxious prayer, there love confessed, **48 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** They loiter round, and strange it were If no man conquest made of her, For when on every side a fort Is pressed, resistance is but short. If plain she be, she'll welcome all: And when a tower prepares to fall, And those within its gates betray, Who shall defend it or upstay? For if with all the world he fights, A man would scarce dare sleep o' nights, And after all were said and done, By first assault the prize were won. The best of wives who lived in Greece, Penelope, alas! small peace Enjoyed -- yet saved her fame at last. Lucretia, she whose name hath passed Into a proverb, was seduced Through brutal force, by Tarquin used Most shamefully, and then she killed Herself, with grief and horror filled. Nowise, as Titus Livius saith, Could sire or husband save from death This matron chaste; whate'er they said, Herself she boldly poignarded Before their eyes. To calm her grief They spake wise words, but no relief She took therefrom, e'en though her spouse Avowed that she her marriage vows Had straightly kept, and nothing blamed Her for the deed which so had shamed **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 49** Her spirit, but declared that she Lived spotless in her chastity. For though the body may endure Befoulment forced, the soul is pure, And never sin hath body shent, When lacked thereto the heart's consent. But she, disdainful of her life Through grief, snatched suddenly a knife From out her bosom's folds, then cried To those who, weeping, stood beside Her couch: Fair sirs, though nobly ye Declare me innocent to be In this foul deed which I deplore, Lucrece forgives it not, nor more Can lift her face to meet the shame She suffers, though absolved from blame. **L** *How fair Lucrece, through wrath she bare At heart, her noble bosom tare With murderous knife, and death did win In face of husband, sire, and kin*. THEN through her heart, with anguish filled, She drove the cruel steel and spilled Her life blood, but her friends charged first, To venge her on her foe accurst. From this example, through all time, It is that whoso such foul crime Commits, is doomed the death to die. Proud Tarquin and his family **50 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** Were straightway driven forth from Rome, Dying in exile, and no home Found kingship there again. Alas! Through all the world one now might pass, But no Penelope in Greece Discover, nor in Rome Lucrece, Nor such-like women otherwhere: Seek not -- your pains ye well may spare. In pagan days too well 'tis known That women many a time have thrown Themselves at men who sought them not, As many a one doth now, God wot! Those who in wedlock would engage, A custom have which neither sage Nor good I reckon, but bizarre And strange in each particular, And oft I marvel what should press Men on to such fond foolishness. What man soe'er would buy a horse Examines him, in common course, With greatest pains, and carefully Notes each defect that meets his eye. But women skilfully conceal All faults from those with whom they deal, And nought men know of good or ill Concerning those they wed until The knot is tied, but that once done, Good Lord! such pranks 'neath heaven's high sun They play, as show all plain and clear Their inborn vice; nought then they fear, **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 51** But let the wretched dupe perceive That nought his folly can retrieve; Repentance comes alas! too late. Nay, even though, a kindly fate Procure for him a wife both good And gentle, in all likelihood, Unless a fool, will he repent His folly ere a year be spent. A virtuous woman! Nay, I swear By good St. Denis, that's more rare Than is a phoenix. Thus hath said Valerius: Whosoe'er will wed Or love a woman finds much pain And many troubles, while his gain Is nought. More rare than phoenix? Nay, 'Twere apter simile to say Rarer by far than snow-white crow, How fine soe'er their bodies show. But natheless am I free to say (Lest that the women of to-day Should count me neither just nor fair), I've no intention to declare All womankind alike, but eyes Of lynx the man need have who tries So fair a bird on earth to find As any one of womankind Who's faultless -- secular or nun -- Black swans are commoner 'neath the sun. Such birds on earth are sparsely sown, As lightly may, pardee, be known. **52 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** And Juvenal supporteth this. He saith: If e'er thy luck it is To find an honest woman, go Straight to the temple, fall slow To Jupiter on bended knees, And Goddess Juno strive to please With sacrificial cow, whose horns A film of precious gold adorns. For never while thou liv'st will be A rarer sight vouchsafed to thee. Valerius moreover saith: (Sans shame for that he uttereth) That either at home or over-sea Would one affect the company Of vicious women, they are found Plenty as bees when swarms fly round. What deem you then shall be the fate Of such a fool? 'Twere desperate -- He who a branch so frail doth choose To trust, shall soul and body lose. Valerius, when 'twas plainly seen That young Rufinus, who had been His friend from youth, would bend the knee To Hymen, cried: What's come to thee In name of all the Gods! dost set Thy foot within the treacherous net Designing women spread for men? And Juvenal these words wrote when Young Postumus would take a wife: 'Twere better far to end thy life! Doth no man now stout halters sell? Or can'st thou nowhere find a well **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 53** To drown thee in, or dizzy height From whence thou may'st take headlong flight? Were not swift exit better far Than all thy happiness to mar By wedlock's chains? Phoroneus, who The use of laws first taught unto The Greeks, when lying on his bed A-dying, to his brother said The young Leontius: Brother dear, Calm were my death could I but hear Thee promise that thou ne'er wilt take A wife -- this vow I prithee make. And when Leontius sought the why, He spake him thuswise: Verily, Cruel experience all have found Whose feet within the snares are bound Of marriage, and if thou a wife Shouldst take -- alas! woe worth thy life! Likewise did Heloise entreat (The abbess of the Paraclete) Her lover Peter Abelard, That he would utterly discard All thought of marriage from his mind. This lady, noble and refined, Of genius bright and learning great, Loving, and loved with passionate Strong love, implored him not to wed, And many a well-wrought reason sped To him in letters, where she showed That hard and troublous is the code **54 THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE** Of marriage, howsoever true Are those who bind themselves thereto; For not alone had she in books Studied, but all the closest nooks Of woman's heart explored, and she Love's throes had suffered bitterly. Therefore she begged they might atwain, Though dying each for each, remain, Bound by no bonds but those of love, Whose gentle ties are strong above All marriage laws, yet frank and free Leave lovers -- in sweet amity -- To follow learning, and she said, Moreover, that long absence bred 'Twixt lovers unexpressed delight, Most poignant when they're lost to sight. But Peter, as himself hath writ In burning letters, so was smit With passion, that nought else would serve Till Heloise he drew to swerve From her sage counsel, and thence fell On him mischance most dire to tell; For little more their course was run Ere she at Argenteuil as nun Was close immured, while he was reft Of manhood by his foes, who deft As cruel were in his despite, Seizing him as he lay one night At Paris. After this mischance Saint Denis, patron saint of France, **THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE 55** Gave shelter to him as a monk; And when this bitter cup he'd drunk, Down to the dregs an abbey meet He founded, hight the Paraclete, For Heloise, and there with good Success she ruled the sisterhood. Her love-lorn story hath she told In letters which she penned with bold Unshamed assurance; therein she Declares monk Abelard to be Her lord and master; and some say These far-famed letters but betray Delirious love. When first the dress She donned of abbess, her distress Broke forth in these wild words: If he Who rules Rome's Empire courteously Deigned to demand that I, as wife, To him would dedicate my life, In proud estate, I should reply Much rather would I live and die Thy mistress, wrapped in shame profound, Than empress of the world be crowned. But never since that day till now Hath such a woman lived, I trow. **-- Old-time freedom** **-- Seignory kills love** **-- A husband's woes** **- A wanton wife** **-- The wife threatened** **-- Marital miseries** **-- Penelope and Lucretia** **-- No sin without consent** **-- Wives chosen blindly** **-- Good women are rare** **-- Juvenal's sayings** **-- Abelard and Heloise** **-- Heloise refused marriage** **-- Heloise unparalleled** ##### From *The Romance of the Rose, by W. Lorris and J. Clopinel*, tr. F.S. Ellis. London, 1901. vol. 2.