MERCILES BEAUTE:
A TRIPLE ROUNDEL - II		 MERCILESS BEAUTY:
A TRIPLE ROUNDELAY - II
Geoffrey Chaucertrans. Peter Dean
REJECTION

So hath your beauté from your herte chaced
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;
For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced;
I sey you sooth, me nedeth not to feyne;
So hath your beauté fro your herte chaced
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne.

Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed
So greet beauté, that no man may atteyne
To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne.
So hath your beauté from your herte chaced
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;
For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.
 REJECTION

Beauty has so driven pity from your heart
That I’m just wasting time if I complain;
Vanity holds your mercy in his chain.

My most innocent death thus have you bought;
I kid you not, no need have I to feign;
Beauty has so driven pity from your heart
That I’m just wasting time if I complain.

Alas! that nature should in you have wrought
Such wondrous beauty that no man may gain
Your mercy, even when he dies in pain.
Beauty has so driven pity from your heart
That I’m just wasting time if I complain;
Vanity holds your mercy in his chain.
Trans. copyright © Peter Dean 2005 






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