211

III.

THE PILGRIMAGE OF PLEASURE.

AN ALLEGORY*

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

PLEASURE,
GLUTTONY, THE VICE,
YOUTH,
VAIN DELIGHT,
LIFE,
SAPIENCE,
DISCRETION,
DEATH.

Pleasure.   All children of men, give good heed

unto me,
That am of my kind very virtue bodily,
Turn ye from following of lies and Vain Delight
That avaunteth herself there she hath but little right:
Set your hearts upon goodly things that I shall you show,
For the end of her ways is dead and very woe.

Youth.   Away from me, thou Sapience, thou noddy,

thou green fool!
What ween ye I be as a little child in school?
Ye are as an old crone that moweth by a fire,
A bob with a chestnut is all thine heart’s desire.
I am in mine habit like to Bacchus the high god,
I reck not a rush of thy rede nor of thy rod.

212

Life.   Bethink thee, good Youth, and take Sapience

to thy wife,
For but a little while hath a man delight of Life.
I am as a flame that lighteth thee one hour;
She hath fruit enow, I have but a fleeting flower.

Discretion.   For pity of Youth I may weep withouten

measure,
That is gone a great way as pilgrim after Pleasure,
For her (most noble queen) shall he never have in sight,
Who is bounden all about with bonds of Vain Delight.
That false fiend to follow in field he is full fain,
For lover of her sweet mouth he shall bide most bitter

pain.
The sweeter she singeth , the lesser is her trust,
She will bring full low to deadly days and dust.

Gluttony.   Ow, I am so full of flesh my skin goeth

nigh to crack!
I would not for a pound I bore my body on my back.
I wis ye wot well what manner of man am I;
One of ye help me to a saddle by and bye.
I am waxen over-big, for I floter on my feet;
I would I had here a piece of beef, a worthy meat.
I have been a blubberling this two and forty year,
And yet for all this I live and make good cheer.

Vain Delight.   I wot ye will not bite upon my snaffle,

good Youth;
Ye go full smoothly now, ye amble well forsooth.

213

Youth.   My sweet life and lady, my love and mine

heart’s lief,
One kiss of your fair sweet mouth it slayeth all men’s

grief.
One sight of your goodly eyes it bringeth all men

ease.

Gluttony.   Ow, I would I had a manchet or a piece

of cheese!

Vain Delight.   Lo, where lurketh a lurden** that is

kinsman of mine;
Ho, Gluttony, I wis ye are drunken without wine.

Youth.   We have gone by many lands, and many

grievous ways,
And yet have we not found this Pleasure all these days.
Sometimes a lightening all about her have we seen.
A glittering of her garments among the fieldes green;
Sometimes the waving of her hair that is right sweet,
A lifting of her eyelids, or a shining of her feet,
Or either in sleeping or in waking have we heard
A rustling of raiment or a whispering of a word,
Or a noise of pleasant water running over a waste place,
Yet have I not beheld her, nor known her very face.

Vain Delight.   What, thou very knave, and how

reckonest thou of me?

214

Youth.   Nay, though thou be goodly, I trow thou

are not she.

Vain Delight.   I would that thou wert hanged in a

halter by the neck,
From my face to my feet there is neither flaw nor fleck,
There is none happy man but he that sips and clips
My goodly stately body and the love upon my lips.
Great kings have worshipped me, and served me on

their knees.
Yet for thy sake I wis, have I set light by these.

Youth.   What pratest thou of Pleasure? I wot well

it am I.

Gluttony.   Ow! I would I had a marchpane or a

plover in a pie!
What needeth a man look far for that is near at hand?
What needeth him ear the sea, or fish upon dry land?
For whether it be flesh, or whether it be fish,
Lo, it lurketh full lowly in a little dish.

Sapience.   I charge thee, O thou Youth, thou repent

thee on this tide,
For but an hour or twain, shall thy life and thou abide;
Turn thee, I say, yea turn thee, before it be the night,
Take thine heart in thine hand, and slay thy Vain

Delight,
Before thy soul and body in sudden and sunder be rent.

215

Youth.   Nay, though I be well weary, yet will I not

repent,
Nor will I slay my love; lo, this is all in brief.

Vain Delight.   I beseech thee now begone, thou ragged

hood, thou thief!
Wherefore snuffest thou so, like one smelling of

mustard?

Gluttony.   Ow, methinks I could eat a goodly

quaking custard.

Youth.   Peace, thou paunch, I pray; thou sayest ever

the same.

Vain Delight.   Lo, her coats be all bemired! this is

a goodly dame.
She pranceth with her chin up, as one that is full nice.

Gluttony.   Ow, I would I had a pear with a pretty

point of spice,
A comfit with a caudle is a comfortable meat;
A cony is the best beast of all that run on feet.
I love well buttered ale, I would I had one drop;
I pray thee, Mistress Sapience, hast thou never a sugar

sop?

Sapience.   Depart from me, thou sturdy swine, thou

hast no part in me!

216

Gluttony.   Ow, I wist well there was little fair

fellowship in thee.
Good Mistress Discretion, ye both lief and fair,
Of thy dish, I pray thee, some scrapings thou me spare.

Discretion.   My dish, thou foolish beast, for thy

mouth it is not meet;
I feed on gracious thought, and on prayer that is most

sweet,
I eat of good desires, I drink good words for wine;
Thou art fed on husks of death among the snouts of

swine;
My drink is clear contemplation, I feed on fasting hours,
I commune with the most high stars, and all the noble

flowers,
With all the days and nights, and with love that is their

queen.

Gluttony.   Ow, of this communication it recks me

never a bean!
Shall one drink the night for wine, and feed upon the

dawn?
Yet had I rather have in hand a cantle of brawn.

Sapience.   O Youth, wilt thou not turn thee, and

follow that is right?

Youth.   Nay, while I have my living I forsake not

Vain Delight.
Till when my hairs are grey, I put her away from me.

217

Vain Delight.   Nay, but in that day will I withdraw

my face from thee.
Out, out, mother mumble, thou art both rotten and raw.

Gluttony.   I will reach thee, if I may a buffet with

my paw.

Vain Delight.   What, wilt thou take my kingdom?

have this for all thy pains.

Gluttony.   Ow, I would I had a toast to butter with

thy brains.

Life.   Lo, this is the last time that ever we twain

shall meet,
I am lean of my body and feeble of my feet;
My goodly beauty is barren, fruit shall it never bear,
But thorns and bitter ashes that are cast upon mine hair;
My glory is all gone, and my good time overpast,
Seeing all my beauty cometh to one colour at the last,
A deadly dying colour of a faded face.
I say to thee, repent thee; thou hast but little space.

Youth.   What manner of man art thou? It seems

thou has seen some strife.

Life.   I am thy body’s shadow, and the likeness of

thy life,
The sorrowful similitude of all thy sorrow and sin;
Wherefore, I pray thee, open all thine heart and let

me in,
Lest, if thou shut out good counsel, thou be thyself

shut out —218

Gluttony.   Ow, though I be lusty I have made them

low to lout,
My lungs be broken in twain with running over fast,
With beating of their bodies mine own sides have I

brast;
The heaving of mine heart is a galling grief.
Ow, what makes thee so lean and wan? (to Life) I

trow thou lackest beef.

Vain Delight.   How, what is this knave, trow?

Life.   He saith his name is Life.

Vain Delight.   By the faith of my fair body I will

give him grief to wife!
In his lips there is no blood, in his throat there is no

breath.
Call ye this Life, by my hood? I think it be liker Death.

Life.   It is thou, thou cursed witch, hast bereft me

of mine ease.
That I gasp with my lips and halt upon my knees.

Death.   Thou hast lived overlong without taking

thought for me;
Lo, here is now an end of thy Vain Delight and thee.
Thou that wert gluttonous shalt eat the dust for bread,
Thou that wearest gold shalt wear grass above thine

head;
219 Thou that wert full big shalt be shrunken to a span,
Thou shalt be a loathly worm that wert a lordly man.
Thou that madest thy bed of silk shalt have a bed of

mould,
Thou whom furs have covered shalt be clad upon with

cold,
Thou that lovedst honey, with gall shalt thou be fed,
Thou that were alive shalt presently be dead.

Youth.   O strong Death, be merciful! I quake with

dread of thee.

Death.   Nay thou hast dwelt long with Life: now

shalt thou sleep with me.

Gluttony.   Ow, ow, for very fear my flesh doth melt

and dwindle,
My sides and my shanks be leaner than a spindle;
Now foul fall his fingers that wound up the thread,
Good Master Death, do me no hurt; I wis I am but dead.
Now may I drink my sobs, and chew upon my sighs,
And feed my foolish body with the fallings of mine eyes.

Vain Delight.   Mine eyes are turned to tears, my fair

mouth filled with moan,
My cheeks are ashen colour, I grovel and I groan,
My love is turned to loathing, my day to a weary night,
Now I wot I am not Pleasure, I am but Vain Delight!

Youth.   O Death, show pity upon me, and spare me

for a space.

220

Death.   Nay, thou hast far to go; rise up, uncover

thy face.

Youth.   O Death, abide for a little, but till it be the

night.

Death.   Nay, thy day is done; look up, there is no

light.

Youth.   O Death, forbear me yet till an hour be

over and done.

Death.   Thine hour is over and wasted; behold, there

is no more sun!

Youth.   Nay, Death, but I repent me.

Death.   Here have thou this and hold.

Youth.   O Death, thou art keen and bitter, thine

hands are wonder-cold!

Death.   Fare forth now without word, ye have

tarried over measure.

Youth.   Alas, that ever I went on Pilgrimage of

Pleasure,
And wist not what she was; now am I the wearier wight.
Lo, this is the end of all, this cometh of Vain Delight!

Death.   O foolish people! O ye that rejoice for a

three days’ breath,
Lift up your eyes unto me, lest ye perish; behold, I am

Death!
221 When your hearts are exalted with laughter, and kindled

with love as with fire,
Neither look ye before ye nor after, but feed and are

filled with desire.
Lo, without trumpets I come: without ushers I follow

behind:
And the voice of the strong men is dumb; and the

eyes of the wise men are blind.
Your mouths were hot with meat, your lips were sweet

with wine,
There was gold upon your feet, on your heads was gold

most fine:
For blasts of wind and rain ye shook not neither

shrunk,
Ye were clothéd with man’s pain, with man’s blood ye

were drunk;
Little heed ye had of tears and poor men’s sighs,
In your glory ye were glad, and ye glittered with your

eyes.
Ye said each man in his heart, “I shall live and see

good days.”
Lo, as mire and clay thou art, even as mire on weary

ways.
Ye said each man, “I am fair, lo, my life in me stands

fast.”
Turn ye, weep and read your hair; what abideth at the

last?
For behold ye are all made bare, and your glory is over

and past.
222 Ye were covered with fatness and sleep; ye wallow’d

to left and to right.
Now may ye wallow and weep: day is gone, and behold

it is night!
With grief were all ye gotten, to bale were all ye born,
Ye are all as red leaves rotten, or as the beaten corn.
What will one of you say? had ye eyes and would not

see?
Had ye harps and would not play? Yet shall ye play

for me.
Had ye ears and would not hear? Had ye feet and

would not go?
Had ye wits and would not fear? Had ye seed and

would not sow?
Had ye hands and would not wring? Had ye wheels

and would not spin?
Had ye lips and would not sing? was there no song

found therein?
A bitter, a bitter thing there is comen upon you for sin.
Alas! your kingdom and lands! alas! your men and

their might!
Alas! the strength of your hands and the days of your

Vain Delight!
Alas! the words that were spoken, sweet words on a

pleasant tongue!
Alas! your harps that are broken, the harps that were

carven and strung!
Alas! the light in your eyes, the gold in your golden

hair!
223 Alas! your sayings wise, and the goodly things ye

ware!
Alas! your glory! alas! the sound of your names

among men!
Behold, it is come to pass, ye shall sleep and arise not

again.
Dust shall fall on your face, and dust shall hang on

your hair;
Ye shall sleep without shifting of place, and shall be

no more as ye were;
Ye shall never open your mouth; ye shall never lift up

your head;
Ye shall look not to north or to south; life is done, and

behold, ye are dead!
With your hand ye shall not threat; with your throat

ye shall not sing.
Yea, ye that are living yet, ye shall each be a grievous

thing.
Ye shall each fare under ground, ye shall lose both

speech and breath;
Without sight ye shall see, without sound ye shall hear,

and shall know I am Death.

EPILOGUE

Spoken by Pleasure.

The ending of Youth and of Vain Delight
    Full plainly here ye all have seen;
224 Wherefore I pray you day and night,
    While winter is wan and summer is green,
Ye keep the end hereof in sight,
    Lest in the end ye gather teen;
And all this goodly Christmas light,
    Ye praise and magnify our Queen,
        Whiles that your lips have breath;
And all your life-days out of measure.
Serve her with heart’s and body’s treasure,
And pray GOD give her praise and pleasure,
        Both of her life and death.

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*  Reprinted verbatim from Chapter V of The Children of the Chapel. A Tale. By the Author of The Chorister Brothers, Mark Dennis, etc. [Miss Gordon = Mrs. Disney Leith.] . . . London: 1864. [Second edition, 1875.] Pp. iv: 1-116.

It is stated by Mr. Wise that “most of the fragments of verse scattered throughout the pages of this volume were by Mr. Swinburne, particularly the lengthy poem of 38 lines commencing, ’Your mouths were hot with meat, your lips were sweet with wine.’” If this means anything it means that all of the verse given in “Chapter V — The Pilgrimage of Pleasure,” is by Mr. Swinburne, and as these poems “have never appeared elsewhere than in the two editions of this little book,” we have given them entire.

The same authority assures us that “the other long poem” of 84 lines (“I am mickle of might,”) “is not the work of Mr. Swinburne.”

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**  Lurden: a lout, lubber.