Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MINE OLD DEAR ENEMY, MY FROWARD MASTER, by PETRARCH


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MINE OLD DEAR ENEMY, MY FROWARD MASTER, by                     Poet's Biography
Last Line: But longer time doth ask resolution
Alternate Author Name(s): Petrarca, Francesco
Subject(s): Love – Complaints


1

Mine old dear enemy, my froward master,
Afore that Queen, I caused to be accited,
Which holdeth the divine part of nature,
That like as gold, in fire he mought be tried.
Changed with dolour, there I me presented
With horrible fear, as one that greatly dreadeth
A wrongful death, and justice always seeketh.

2

And thus I said: "Once my left foot Madame,
When I was young I set within his reign;
Whereby other than fiercly burning flame,
I never felt but many a grievous pain;
Torment I suffered, anger and disdain,
That mine oppressed patience was past,
And I mine own life hated at the last.

3

Thus hitherto have I my time passed
In pain and smart. What ways profitable,
How many pleasant days have me escaped;
In serving this false liar so deceivable ?
What wit have words so pressed and forceable,
That may contain my great mishappiness,
And just complaints of his ungentleness ?

4

O ! small honey, much aloes, and gall
In bitterness have my blind life tasted
His false sweetness, that turneth as a ball,
With the amorous dance have made me traced;
And where I had my thought, and mind ataced,
From all earthly frailness, and vain pleasure,
He took me from rest and set me in error.

5

He hath made me regard God much less than I ought
And to my self to take right little heed,
And, for a Woman, have I set at nought
All other thoughts: in this only to speed;
And he was only councillor of this deed;
Always whetting my youthly desire
On the cruel whetstone tempered with fire.


6

But alas where now had I ever wit ?
Or else any other gift given me of nature ?
That sooner shall change my wearied sprite,
Than the obstinate will that is my ruler ?
So robbed my liberty with displeasure
This wicked traitor, whom I thus accuse,
That bitter life have turned me in pleasant use.


7

He hath chased me thorough divers regions:
Thorough desert woods, and sharp high mountains,
Thorough froward people and straight pressions:
Thorough rocky sees : over hills and plains :
With weary travail, and laborous pains :
Always in trouble and in tediousness,
In all error and dangerous distress.

8

But neither he nor she my th'other foe,
For all my flight did ever me forsake;
That though timely death hath been too slow,
That as yet it hath me not overtake;
The heavenly goodness of pity do it slake.
And note this, his cruel extreme tyranny,
That feedeth him with my care and misery.

9

Since I was his, o'er rested I never,
Nor look for to do, and eke the waky nights,
The banished sleep, may no wise recover.
By deceit, and by force, over my sprites,
He is ruler; and since there never bell strikes
Where I am, that I hear not, my plaints to renew,
And he himself he knoweth that I say is true.

10.

For never worms have an old stock eaten,
As he my heart, where he is alway resident;
And doth the same with death daily threaten;
Thence come the tears, and the bitter torment,
The sighs, the words, and eke the languishment,
That annoy both me and peradventure other;
Judge thou that knowest th'one and th'other.

11

Mine adversary, with grievous reproof,
Thus he began : "Hear, Lady, th'other part:
"That the plain truth from which he draweth aloof,
This unkind man shall shew, ere that I part,
In young age I took him from that art
That selleth words, and maketh a clattering knight,
And of my wealth I gave him the delight.

12

Now, shameth he not on me for to complain,
That held him evermore in pleasant game,
From his desire, that might have been his pain;
Yet only thereby I brought him to some frame,
Which, as wretchedness he doth greatly blame;
And toward honour I quickened his wit,
Where else, as a daskard, he might have sit.

13

He knoweth: that Atrides, that made Troy fright,
And Hannibal, to Rome so troublous;
Whom Homer honoured, Achilles that grete;
And the African Scipion the famous;
And many other, by much virtue glorious
Whose fame and honour did bring them above,
I did let fall, in base dishonest love.

14

And unto him, though he no deal worthy were,
I chose right the best of many a million,
That under the moon was never her peer
Of wisdom, womanhood and discretion;
And of my grace I gave her such a fa! on,
And eke such a way I taught her for to teach
That never base thought his heart might have reach.

15

Evermore thus to content his mistress,
That was his only frame of honesty.
I stirred him still toward gentleness,
And caused him to regard fidelity;
Patience I taught him in adversity;
Such virtues he learned in my great school
Whereof he repenteth, the ignorant fool.

16

These were the deceits and the bitter gall
That I have used; the torment and the anger;
Sweeter than for to enjoy any other in all.
Of right good seed ill fruit I gather;
And so hath he, that th'unkind doth further.
I nourish a serpent under my wing,
And of his nature now ginneth he to sting.

17

And for to tell at last my great service:
From thousand dishonesties I have him drawn;
That by my means in no manner of wise,
Never vile pleasure hath him overthrown;
Where in his deed, shame hath him always ynawen,
Doubting report, that should come to her ear;
Whom now he accuseth he wonted to fear.

18

What soever he hath of any honest custom
Of her and me, that holdeth he every whit:
But lo, there was never nightly phantom
So far in error, as he is from his wit.
To plain on us, he striveth with the bit
Which may rule him, and do him pleasure and pain,
And in one hour make all his grief remain.

19

But one thing there is above all other:
I gave him wings, wherewith for to fly
To honour and fame, and if he would farther
Than mortal things, above the starry sky;
Considering the pleasure that an eye
Might give in earth, by reason of his love,
What should that be that lasteth still above ?

20

And he the same himself hath said, or this:
But now forgotten is both that, and I,
That gave her him, his only wealth and bliss."
And at this word, with deadly shright and cry
"Thou gave her me," quod I, "but by and by"
"Thou took her straight from me: that woe worth thee!"
"Not I" quoth he; "but price, that is well worth."

21

At last: both each for himself concluded:
I, trembling: but he, with small reverence:
"Lo thus as we have now each other accused,
"Dear lady, we wait only thy sentence."
She smiling : "After thissaid audience
"It liketh me," quod she, "to have heard your questions,
"But longer time doth ask resolution."





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net