Degare is Born

More Degare. The child is born and left to Fortune's whims.

On a dai, as hi wepende set, On of hire maidenes hit underyet. "Madame," she seide, "par charité, Whi wepe ye now, telleth hit me." "A! gentil maiden, kinde icoren, Help me, other ich am forloren! Ich have ever yete ben meke and milde: Lo, now ich am with quike schilde! Yif ani man hit underyete, Men wolde sai bi sti and strete That mi fader the King hit wan And I ne was never aqueint with man! And yif he hit himselve wite, Swich sorewe schal to him smite That never blithe schal he be, For al his joie is in me," And tolde here al togeder ther Hou hit was bigete and wher. "Madame," quad the maide, "ne care thou nowt: Stille awai hit sschal be browt. No man schal wite in Godes riche Whar hit bicometh, but thou and iche." Her time come, she was unbounde, And delivred al mid sounde; A knaveschild ther was ibore: Glad was the moder tharfore. The maiden servede here at wille, Wond that child in clothes stille, And laid hit in a cradel anon, And was al prest tharwith to gon. Yhit is moder was him hold: Four pound she tok of gold, And ten of selver also; Under his fote she laid hit tho, - For swich thing hit mighte hove; And seththen she tok a paire glove That here lemman here sente of fairi londe, That nolde on no manne honde, Ne on child ne on womman yhe nolde, But on hire selve wel yhe wolde. Tho gloven she put under his hade, And siththen a letter she wrot and made, And knit hit with a selkene thred Aboute his nekke wel god sped That who hit founde sscholde iwite. Than was in the lettre thous iwrite: "Par charité, yif ani god man This helples child finde can, Lat cristen hit with prestes honde, And bringgen hit to live in londe, For hit is comen of gentil blod. Helpeth hit with his owen god, With tresor that under his fet lis; And ten yer eld whan that he his, Taketh him this ilke gloven two, And biddeth him, wharevere he go, That he ne lovie no womman in londe But this gloves willen on hire honde; For siker on honde nelle thai nere But on his moder that him bere."

Upon a day as she sat weeping One of her ladies, this perceiving, Said, "For the sake of charity, Why do you cry, please tell me?" "Ah! Gentle maid, chosen one, Help me or my life is done! Ever I have been meek and mild: But look, now I'm quick with child! If this news to any man leaks, Tongues will wag in the streets: They'll say it's fathered by my father For I've been close to no other! And if my father this rumor hears, He'll be wrecked by grief and tears And happy again he'll never be, For all his joy resides in me." Thus she did her story trace, How she got pregnant and in what place. "Fear not, Madam," her lady did say, "In secret the child will be brought away, And no one else will have a clue Of its origins, but me and you." When her time had come around, She delivered the child safe and sound; A boy it was and at his birth She was filled with joy and mirth. The lady, who the secret kept, In swaddling clothes, the child wrapped And laid it in a cradle low, Making ready at once to go. Yet his mother, faithful to him, Carefully placed under his limbs Four pounds of gold, of silver ten, She hid into the cradle then, That it of aid might one day be; A pair of gloves then took she Which from Fairyland were sent, By her lover and were meant On no one else's hands to sit: Her's alone would they fit. These gloves she put under his head. A letter she'd written she did thread Around his neck with silken strands: Thus she carried out her plans. Whoever found the child would read These lines with which she did plead: "For charity's sake if you find This helpless child, be of good mind And have him christened by a priest, And care for him ten years at least. From noble blood he descends So aid him at his own expense: Under his feet there's silver and gold. And when he is ten-years old, Make sure to give him these gloves two And tell him that wherever he's due No single woman must he love Unless her hands fit the glove; In truth, these gloves may none wear, Except the mother that him did bear."