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And on the small grene twistis*（2） set
The lytel swete nightingales； and sung
So loud and clear； the hymnis consecrate
Of lovis use； now soft； now loud among；
That all the garden and the wallis rung
Right of their song…
* Lyf； Person。
*（2） Twistis； small boughs or twigs。
Note。… The language of the quotations is generally modernized。
It was the month of May； when every thing was in bloom； and he
interprets the song of the nightingale into the language of his
enamored feeling：
Worship； all ye that lovers be； this May；
For of your bliss the kalends are begun；
And sing with us； away； winter； away；
Come； summer； come； the sweet season and sun。
As he gazes on the scene； and listens to the notes of the birds；
he gradually relapses into one of those tender and undefinable
reveries； which fill the youthful bosom in this delicious season。 He
wonders what this love may be； of which he has so often read； and
which thus seems breathed forth in the quickening breath of May； and
melting all nature into ecstasy and song。 If it really be so great a
felicity； and if it be a boon thus generally dispensed to the most
insignificant beings； why is he alone cut off from its enjoyments？
Oft would I think； O Lord； what may this be；
That love is of such noble myght and kynde？
Loving his folke； and such prosperitee
Is it of him； as we in books do find：
May he oure hertes setten* and unbynd：
Hath he upon our hertes such maistrye？
Or is all this but feynit fantasye？
For giff he be of so grete excellence；
That he of every wight hath care and charge；
What have I gilt*（2） to him； or done offense；
That I am thral'd； and birdis go at large？
* Setten； incline。
*（2） Gilt； what injury have I done； etc。
In the midst of his musing； as he casts his eye downward； he beholds
〃the fairest and the freshest young floure〃 that ever he had seen。
It is the lovely Lady Jane； walking in the garden to enjoy the
beauty of that 〃fresh May morrowe。〃 Breaking thus suddenly upon his
sight； in the moment of loneliness and excited susceptibility； she
at once captivates the fancy of the romantic prince； and becomes the
object of his wandering wishes； the sovereign of his ideal world。
There is； in this charming scene； an evident resemblance to the
early part of Chaucer's Knight's Tale； where Palamon and Arcite fall
in love with Emilia； whom they see walking in the garden of their
prison。 Perhaps the similarity of the actual fact to the incident
which he had read in Chaucer may have induced James to dwell on it
in his poem。 His description of the Lady Jane is given in the
picturesque and minute manner of his master； and being doubtless taken
from the life； is a perfect portrait of a beauty of that day。 He
dwells； with the fondness of a lover； on every article of her apparel；
from the net of pearl； splendent with emeralds and sapphires； that
confined her golden hair； even to the 〃goodly chaine of small
orfeverye〃* about her neck； whereby there hung a ruby in shape of a
heart； that seemed； he says； like a spark of fire burning upon her
white bosom。 Her dress of white tissue was looped up to enable her
to walk with more freedom。 She was accompanied by two female
attendants； and about her sported a little hound decorated with bells；
probably the small Italian hound of exquisite symmetry； which was a
parlor favorite and pet among the fashionable dames of ancient
times。 James closes his description by a burst of general eulogium：
* Wrought gold。
In her was youth； beauty； with humble port；
Bounty； richesse； and womanly feature；
God better knows then my pen can report；
Wisdom； largesse；* estate；*（2） and cunning*（3） sure；
In every point so guided her measure；
In word； in deed； in shape； in countenance；
That nature might no more her child advance。
* Largesse； bounty。
*（2） Estate； dignity。
*（3） Cunning； discretion。
The departure of the Lady Jane from the garden puts an end to this
transient riot of the heart。 With her departs the amorous illusion
that had shed a temporary charm over the scene of his captivity； and
he relapses into loneliness； now rendered tenfold more intolerable
by this passing beam of unattainable beauty。 Through the long and
weary day he repines at his unhappy lot； and when evening
approaches； and Phoebus； as he beautifully expresses it； had 〃bade
farewell to every leaf and flower；〃 he still lingers at the window；
and； laying his head upon the cold stone； gives vent to a mingled flow
of love and sorrow； until； gradually lulled by the mute melancholy
of the twilight hour； he lapses； 〃half sleeping； half swoon；〃 into a
vision； which occupies the remainder of the poem； and in which is
allegorically shadowed out the history of his passion。
When he wakes from his trance； he rises from his stony pillow；
and； pacing his apartment； full of dreary reflections； questions his
spirit； whither it has been wandering； whether； indeed； all that has
passed before his dreaming fancy has been conjured up by preceding
circumstances； or whether it is a vision； intended to comfort and
assure him in his despondency。 If the latter； he prays that some token
may be sent to confirm the promise of happier days； given him in his
slumbers。 Suddenly； a turtle dove； of the purest whiteness； comes
flying in at the window； and alights upon his hand； bearing in her
bill a branch of red gilliflower； on the leaves of which is written；
in letters of gold； the following sentence：
Awake！ awake！ I bring； lover； I bring
The newis glad that blissful is； and sure
Of thy comfort； now laugh； and play； and sing；
For in the heaven decretit is thy cure。
He receives the branch with mingled hope and dread； reads it with
rapture： and this； he says； was the first token of his succeeding
happiness。 Whether this is a mere poetic fiction； or whether the
Lady Jane did actually send him a token of her favor in this
romantic way； remains to be determined according to the faith or fancy
of the reader。 He concludes his poem； by intimating that the promise
conveyed in the vision and by the flower is fulfilled； by his being
restored to liberty； and made happy in the possession of the sovereign
of his heart。
Such is the poetical account given by James of his love adventures
in Windsor Castle。 How much of it is absolute fact； and how much the
embellishment of fancy； it is fruitless to conjecture： let us not；
however； reject every romantic incident as incompatible with real
life； but let us sometimes take a poet at his word。 I have noticed
merely those parts of the poem immediately connected with the tower；
and have passed over a large part； written in the allegorical vein； so
much cultivated at that day。 The language； of course；