Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/171

Rh

The aspen trees, and fever shakes

Her limbs at each small noise that wakes.

Then Evil-Tongue, of God accurst!

Who never in his heart hath nursed

Aught else but baseness, at the last

Gate set himself, but quickly passed

From one to other busily:

And if perchance it happed that he

Should keep the night-watch, haste he made

To mount the tower, and there arrayed

Bagpipes, trumpets, horns and shalms,

On which, for hours on end, no psalms

He tuned, but merry songs and lays

And fables told in olden days;

Or times he made a dismal wail

On bagpipes loud of Cornouaille.

Another time he fluting sang

Old tales, whereof the burden rang,

That never woman, maid or wife,

Had lived a chaste and honest life,

But said that nought they loved so well

As legends, tales, and songs that tell

Of lawless love and luxury.

This woman he declares to be

A wretched strumpet, that one paints,

Another he of crime attaints,

And such an one he calls a fool,

While such another fails to rule

Her speech.

Thus Evil-Tongue declares

War on all women—none he spares.