XIII.
After this above-described vision, having now spoken the words that Love had imposed on me to speak, many and diverse thoughts began to assail and to try me, and against each I was as it were without defence. Among which thoughts four chiefly hindered the repose of my life. One of them was this: “The lordship of Love is good, in that it withdraws the inclination of his liegeman from all vile things.” The next was this: “The lordship of Love is not good, because the more fidelity his liegeman bears to him, so much the heavier and more grievous trials he must needs endure.” The next was this: “The name of Love is so sweet to hear, that it seems to me impossible that his effects in most things should be other than sweet, seeing that names follow the things named, as it is written, Nomina sunt consequentia rerum” [Names are consequences of things]. The fourth was this: “The lady through whom Love thus binds thee is not as other ladies that her heart may be lightly moved.” And each thought so assailed me that it made me stand like one who knows not by which way to take his journey, and who desires to go, and knows not whither he should go. And if I thought of desiring to seek a way common to them, namely, that wherein all would accord, this way was very hostile to me, namely, to call upon and put myself in the arms of Pity. And while I abode in this condition, the will came to me to write some rhymed words thereon, and I devised then this sonnet: —
All of my thoughts concerning Love discourse,
And have in them so great variety,
That one to wish his sway compelleth me,
Another argues evil of his force;
One, hoping, sweetness doth to me impart,
Another makes me oftentimes lament;
Only in craving Pity they consent,
Trembling with fear that is within my heart.
Thus know I not from which my theme to take;
I fain would speak, and know not what to say;
In such perplexities of love I live:
And if with all to make accord I strive,
I needs unto my very foe must pray,
My Lady Pity, my defence to make.
This sonnet may be divided into four parts. In the first, I say and declare that all my thoughts are concerning Love: in the second, I say that they are diverse, and I relate their diversity: in the third, I say in what they all seem to accord: in the fourth, I say that, wishing to speak of Love, I know not from which to take my theme, and if I wish to take it from them all, I needs must call upon my foe, my Lady Pity. I say “my Lady,” as it were in a scornful mode of speech. The second begins here: “And have in them:” the third, “Only in craving;” the fourth, “Thus know I.”