Wine, Women, and Song Part 15

False the tongue and foul with slander, Poisonous treacherous tongue of pander, Tongue the hangman's knife should sever, Tongue in flames to burn for ever;

Which hath called me a deceiver, Faithless lover, quick to leave her, Whom I love, and leave her slighted, For another, unrequited!

Hear, ye Muses nine! nay, rather, Jove, of G.o.ds and men the father!

Who for Danae and Europa Changed thy shape, thou bold eloper!

Hear me, G.o.d! ye G.o.ds all, hear me!

Such a sin came never near me.

Hear, thou G.o.d! and G.o.ds all, hear ye!

Thus I sinned not, as I fear ye.

I by Mars vow, by Apollo, Both of whom Love's learning follow; Yea, by Cupid too, the terror Of whose bow forbids all error!

By thy bow I vow and quiver, By the shafts thou dost deliver, Without fraud, in honour duly To observe my troth-plight truly.

I will keep the troth I plighted, And the reason shall be cited: 'Tis that 'mid the girls no maiden Ever met I more love-laden.

'Mid the girls thou art beholden Like a pearl in setting golden; Yea, thy shoulder, neck, and bosom Bear of beauty's self the blossom.

Oh, her throat, lips, forehead, nourish Love, with food that makes him flourish!

And her curls, I did adore them-- They were blonde with heaven's light o'er them.

Therefore, till, for Nature's scorning, Toil is rest and midnight morning, Till no trees in woods are growing, Till fire turns to water flowing;

Till seas have no ships to sail them, Till the Parthians' arrows fail them, I, my girl, will love thee ever, Unbetrayed, betray thee never!

In the following poem a lover bids adieu for ever to an unworthy woman, who has betrayed him. This is a remarkable specimen of the songs written for a complicated melody. The first eight lines seem set to one tune; in the next four that tune is slightly accelerated, and a double rhyme is subst.i.tuted for a single one in the tenth and twelfth verses. The five concluding lines go to a different kind of melody, and express in each stanza a changed mood of feeling.

I have tried in this instance to adopt the plaster-cast method of translation, as described above,[32] and have even endeavoured to obtain the dragging effect of the first eight lines of each strophe, which are composed neither of exact accentual dactyls nor yet of exact accentual anapaests, but offer a good example of that laxity of rhythm permitted in this prosody for music.

Comparison with the original will show that I was not copying Byron's _When we Two Parted_; yet the resemblance between that song and the tone which my translation has naturally a.s.sumed from the Latin, is certainly noticeable. That Byron could have seen the piece before he wrote his own lines in question is almost impossible, for this portion of the _Carmina Burana_ had not, so far as I am aware, been edited before the year 1847. The coincidence of metrical form, so far as it extends, only establishes the spontaneity of emotion which, in the case of the medieval and the modern poet, found a similar rhythm for the utterance of similar feeling.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 32: Page 38.]

FAREWELL TO THE FAITHLESS.

No. 40.

A mortal anguish How often woundeth me; Grieving I languish, Weighed down with misery;

Hearing the mournful Tale of thy fault and fall Blown by Fame's scornful Trump to the ears of all!

Envious rumour Late or soon will slay thee: Love with less humour, Lest thy love betray thee.

Whate'er thou dost, do secretly, Far from Fame's curiosity; Love in the dark delights to be, His sports are wiles and witchery, With laugh of lovers greeting.

Thou wert not slighted, Stained in thine honour, when We were united, Lovers unknown to men; But when thy pa.s.sion Grew like thy bosom cold, None had compa.s.sion, Then was thy story told.

Fame, who rejoiceth New amours to utter, Now thy shame voiceth, Wide her pinions flutter.

The palace home of modesty Is made a haunt for harlotry; The virgin lily you may see Defiled by fingers lewd and free, With vile embraces meeting.

I mourn the tender Flower of the youth of thee, Brighter in splendour Than evening's star can be.

Pure were thy kisses, Dove-like thy smile; As the snake hisses Now is thy guile.

Lovers who pray thee From thy door are scattered; Lovers who pay thee In thy bed are flattered.

Thou bidst them from thy presence flee From whom thou canst not take thy fee; Blind, halt, and lame thy suitors be; Ill.u.s.trious men with subtlety And poisonous honey cheating.

I may add that a long soliloquy printed in _Carmina Burana_, pp.

119-121, should be compared with the foregoing lyric. It has a similar motive, though the lover in this case expresses his willingness for reconciliation. One part of its expostulation with the faithless woman is beautiful in its simplicity:--

"Amaveram prae caeteris Te, sed amici veteris Es jam oblita! Superis Vel inferis Ream te criminamur."

I will close this section with the lament written for a medieval Gretchen whose fault has been discovered, and whose lover has been forced to leave the country. Its bare realism contrasts with the lyrical exuberance of the preceding specimens.

GRETCHEN.

No. 41.

Up to this time, well-away!

I concealed the truth from day, Went on loving skilfully.

Now my fault at length is clear: That the hour of need is near, From my shape all eyes can see.

So my mother gives me blows, So my father curses throws; They both treat me savagely.

In the house alone I sit, Dare not walk about the street, Nor at play in public be.

If I walk about the street, Every one I chance to meet Scans me like a prodigy: When they see the load I bear, All the neighbours nudge and stare, Gaping while I hasten by; With their elbows nudge, and so With their finger point, as though I were some monstrosity; Me with nods and winks they spurn, Judge me fit in flames to burn For one lapse from honesty.

Why this tedious tale prolong?

Short, I am become a song, In all mouths a mockery.

By this am I done to death, Sorrow kills me, chokes my breath, Ever weep I bitterly.

One thing makes me still more grieve, That my friend his home must leave For the same cause instantly; Therefore is my sadness so Multiplied, weighed down with woe, For he too will part from me.

XVIII.