图书馆的起源。啊，那明亮的幸福之光，点缀着所有辉煌的天幕!呵，我的生命，呵，我爱的女儿，呵，爱情的欢乐，呵，美好的欢乐，呵，在温柔的心灵中，随时准备修复!你是赐帮助和喜乐的大能者，愿人都赞美你的大能和良善。在天上，在阴间，在阴间，我都能看见你的大能。你是人，是鸟，是鱼，是草，是青树。神是爱的，没有人有爱。在这个世界上，没有爱，任何有爱心的生物都是有价值的，也都是不朽的。你爱的首先是一种快乐的感觉，通过这种感觉，万物都有了生命，你就会爱上他，爱上他，爱上他。他以千姿百态向你求爱，你听从谁，他就向谁求爱。 Ye fierse Mars apeysen of his ire, And, as yow list, ye maken hertes digne; Algates, hem that ye wol sette a-fyre, They dreden shame, and vices they resigne; Ye do hem corteys be, fresshe and benigne, And hye or lowe, after a wight entendeth; The Ioyes that he hath, your might him sendeth. Ye holden regne and hous in unitee; Ye soothfast cause of frendship been also; Ye knowe al thilke covered qualitee Of thinges which that folk on wondren so, Whan they can not construe how it may io, She loveth him, or why he loveth here; As why this fish, and nought that, comth to were. Ye folk a lawe han set in universe, And this knowe I by hem that loveres be, That who-so stryveth with yow hath the werse: Now, lady bright, for thy benignitee, At reverence of hem that serven thee, Whos clerk I am, so techeth me devyse Som Ioye of that is felt in thy servyse. Ye in my naked herte sentement Inhelde, and do me shewe of thy swetnesse. -- Caliope, thy vois be now present, For now is nede; sestow not my destresse, How I mot telle anon-right the gladnesse Of Troilus, to Venus heryinge? To which gladnes, who nede hath, god him bringe! Explicit prohemium Tercii Libri. Incipit Liber Tercius. Lay al this mene whyle Troilus, Recordinge his lessoun in this manere, 'Ma fey!' thought he, 'Thus wole I seye and thus; Thus wole I pleyne unto my lady dere; That word is good, and this shal be my chere; This nil I not foryeten in no wyse.' God leve him werken as he can devyse! And, lord, so that his herte gan to quappe, Heringe hir come, and shorte for to syke! And Pandarus, that ledde hir by the lappe, Com ner, and gan in at the curtin pyke, And seyde, 'God do bote on alle syke! See, who is here yow comen to visyte; Lo, here is she that is your deeth to wyte.' Ther-with it semed as he wepte almost; 'A ha,' quod Troilus so rewfully, 'Wher me be wo, O mighty god, thow wost! Who is al there? I se nought trewely.' 'Sire,' quod Criseyde, 'it is Pandare and I.' 'Ye, swete herte? Allas, I may nought ryse To knele, and do yow honour in som wyse.' And dressede him upward, and she right tho Gan bothe here hondes softe upon him leye, 'O, for the love of god, do ye not so To me,' quod she, 'Ey! What is this to seye? Sire, come am I to yow for causes tweye; First, yow to thonke, and of your lordshipe eke Continuance I wolde yow biseke.' This Troilus, that herde his lady preye Of lordship him, wex neither quik ne deed, Ne mighte a word for shame to it seye, Al-though men sholde smyten of his heed. But lord, so he wex sodeinliche reed, And sire, his lesson, that he wende conne, To preyen hir, is thurgh his wit y-ronne. Cryseyde al this aspyede wel y-nough, For she was wys, and lovede him never-the-lasse, Al nere he malapert, or made it tough, Or was to bold, to singe a fool a masse. But whan his shame gan somwhat to passe, His resons, as I may my rymes holde, I yow wole telle, as techen bokes olde. In chaunged vois, right for his verray drede, Which vois eek quook, and ther-to his manere Goodly abayst, and now his hewes rede, Now pale, un-to Criseyde, his lady dere, With look doun cast and humble yolden chere, Lo, the alderfirste word that him asterte Was, twyes, 'Mercy, mercy, swete herte!' And stinte a whyl, and whan he mighte out-bringe, The nexte word was, 'God wot, for I have, As feyfully as I have had konninge, Ben youres, also god so my sowle save; And shal til that I, woful wight, be grave. And though I dar ne can un-to yow pleyne, Y-wis, I suffre nought the lasse peyne. 'Thus muche as now, O wommanliche wyf, I may out-bringe, and if this yow displese, That shal I wreke upon myn owne lyf Right sone, I trowe, and doon your herte an ese, If with my deet