IX.
Some days after the death of this lady, a thing happened wherefore it behoved me to leave the above-mentioned city, and to go toward those parts where that gentle lady was who had been my defence, though the end of my journey was not distant so far as she was. And notwithstanding I was outwardly in company with many, the journey displeased me, so that hardly could sighs relieve the anguish which the heart felt, because I was going away from my bliss. And then that most sweet Lord, who was lording it over me through virtue of the most gentle lady, appeared in my imagination like a pilgrim lightly clad and in mean raiment. He seemed disheartened, and was looking upon the ground, save that sometimes it seemed to me his eyes were turned upon a beautiful, swift and very clear stream which was flowing along by the road upon which I was.
It seemed to me that Love called me, and said to me these words: “I come from that lady who has been so long thy defence, and I know that she will not come back; and therefore that heart which I made thee keep with her I have it with me, and I carry it to a lady who will be thy defence, as this one was;” and he called her by name, so that I knew her well. “But, however, of these words which I have spoken unto thee, if thou shouldst tell any of them, tell them in such wise that the feigned love which thou hast shown for this lady, and which it will behove thee to show for another, shall not be revealed through them.” And when he had thus spoken, all this my imagination disappeared of a sudden, through the exceeding great part of himself which, it seemed to me, Love bestowed on me. And, as if changed in my aspect, I rode that day very pensive and accompanied by many sighs. The next day I began this sonnet: —
As I the other day rode far from glad
Along a way it pleased me not to take,
I came on Love, who did his journey make,
In the light garment of a pilgrim clad.
His countenance, it seemed to me, was sad,
As if he grieved for his lost lordship’s sake;
Pensive he came, and forth his sighs did break;
Not to see folk, his head bowed down he had.
When me he saw, by name he called to me,
And said, “I come from that far distant part
Where through my will thy heart did dwell of late.
I bring it now on new delight to wait.”
Thereon I took of him so great a part
That quick he vanished; how, I did not see.
This sonnet has three parts. In the first part I tell how I found Love, and what he seemed to me; in the second, I tell that which he said to me, though not completely, through the fear that I had of disclosing my secret; in the third, I tell how he disappeared. The second begins here: “When me he saw;” the third, here: “Thereon I took.”