Weighed down with misery;

Hearing the mournful
Tale of thy fault and fall
Blown by Fame's scornful
Trump to the ears of all!

Envious rumour
Late or soon will slay thee:
Love with less humour,
Lest thy love betray thee.

Whate'er thou dost, do secretly,
Far from Fame's curiosity;
Love in the dark delights to be,
His sports are wiles and witchery,
With laugh of lovers greeting.

Thou wert not slighted,
Stained in thine honour, when
We were united,
Lovers unknown to men;
But when thy passion
Grew like thy bosom cold,
None had compassion,
Then was thy story told.

Fame, who rejoiceth
New amours to utter,
Now thy shame voiceth,
Wide her pinions flutter.

The palace home of modesty
Is made a haunt for harlotry;
The virgin lily you may see
Defiled by fingers lewd and free,
With vile embraces meeting.

I mourn the tender
Flower of the youth of thee,
Brighter in splendour
Than evening's star can be.
Pure were thy kisses,
Dove-like thy smile;
As the snake hisses
Now is thy guile.

Lovers who pray thee
From thy door are scattered;
Lovers who pay thee
In thy bed are flattered.

Thou bidst them from thy presence flee
From whom thou canst not take thy fee;
Blind, halt, and lame thy suitors be;
Illustrious men with subtlety
And poisonous honey cheating.

I may add that a long soliloquy printed in _Carmina Burana_, pp.
119-121, should be compared with the foregoing lyric. It has a similar
motive, though the lover in this case expresses his willingness for
reconciliation. One part of its expostulation with the faithless
woman is beautiful in its simplicity:--

"Amaveram prae caeteris
Te, sed amici veteris
Es jam oblita! Superis
Vel inferis
Ream te criminamur."

I will close this section with the lament written for a medieval
Gretchen whose fault has been discovered, and whose lover has been
forced to leave the country. Its bare realism contrasts with the
lyrical exuberance of the preceding specimens.

GRETCHEN.

No. 41.

Up to this time, well-away!
I concealed the truth from day,
Went on loving skilfully.
Now my fault at length is clear:
That the hour of need is near,
From my shape all eyes can see.
So my