"Wilt thou lere of sterres aught?""Nay, certeynly," quod y, "ryght naught.""And why?" "For y am now to old.""Elles I wolde the have told,"Quod he, "the sterres names, lo,And al the hevenes sygnes therto,And which they ben." "No fors," quod y."Yis, pardee," quod he; "wostow why?For when thou redest poetrie,How goddes gonne stellifyeBridd, fissh, best, or him or here,As the Raven or eyther Bere,Or Arionis harpe fyn,Castor, Pollux, or Delphyn,Or Athalantes doughtres sevene,How alle these arn set in hevene;For though thou have hem ofte on honde,Yet nostow not wher that they stonde.""No fors," quod y, "hyt is no nede.I leve as wel, so God me spede,Hem that write of this matere..."

The science of AstronomieI thinke for to specefie,Withoute which, to telle plein,Alle othre science is in veinToward the scole of erthli thinges.For as an egle with his wingesFleth above alle that men finde,So doth this science in his kinde.

Lege planetarum magis inferiora reguntur,Ista set interdum regula fallit opus.Vir mediante deo sapiens dominabitur astris,Fata nec immerito quid nouitatis agunt.

[Things lower down are ruled by the law of the planets, and sometimes that governance foils endeavor. With God's intervention the wise man will rule the stars, and the fates will not cause anything suddenly unfavorable.]

Theologie is that scienceWhich unto man gifth evidenceOf thing which is noght bodely...

CASSIUSWhy, man, he doth bestride the narrow worldLike a Colossus, and we petty menWalk under his huge legs and peep aboutTo find ourselves dishonourable graves.Men at some time are masters of their fates:The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,But in ourselves, that we are underlings.Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'?Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

--William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

"Love even takes Sol prisoner, who rules all the stars with his light. I will tell you about his amours. He was the first god they say to see the adulteries of Venus and Mars: he sees all things first. He was sorry to witness the act, and he told her husband Vulcan, son of Juno, of this bedroom intrigue, and where the intrigue took place. Vulcan’s heart dropped, and he dropped in turn the craftsman’s work he held in his hand. Immediately he began to file thin links of bronze, for a net, a snare that would deceive the eye. The finest spun threads, those the spider spins from the rafters, would not better his work. He made it so it would cling to the smallest movement, the lightest touch, and then artfully placed it over the bed. When the wife and the adulterer had come together on the one couch, they were entangled together, surprised in the midst of their embraces, by the husband’s craft, and the new method of imprisonment he had prepared for them. The Lemnian, Vulcan, immediately flung open the ivory doors, and let in the gods. There the two lay shamefully bound together, and one of the gods, undismayed, prayed that he might be shamed like that. And the gods laughed. And for a long time it was the best-known story in all the heavens."

--Ovid, Metamorphoses Book IV

"...how bitter was the sorrow of the lovers when we were forced to part! With what shame was I overwhelmed, with what contrition smitten because of the blow which had fallen on her I loved, and what a tempest of misery burst over her by reason of my disgrace! Each grieved most, not for himself, but for the other. Each sought to allay, not his own sufferings, but those of the one he loved. The very sundering of our bodies served but to link our souls closer together; the plentitude of the love which was denied to us inflamed us more than ever. Once the first wildness of shame had passed, it left us more shameless than before, and as shame died within us the cause of it seemed to us ever more desirable. And so it chanced with us as, in the stories that the poets tell, it once happened with Mars and Venus when they were caught together.

It was not long after this that Heloise found that she was pregnant, and of this she wrote to me in the utmost exultation, at the same time asking me to consider what had best be done. Accordingly, on a night when her uncle was absent, we carried out the plan we had determined on, and I stole her secretly away from her uncle's house, sending her without delay to my own country. She remained there with my sister until she gave birth to a son, whom she named Astrolabe."

--Peter Abelard, Historia Calamitatum

aubade -- "dawnsong," a complaint against the day, typically made at the parting of lovers who have spent the night together

Arcite's: Prayer to Mars to Win Emily in Chaucer's Knight's Tale:

"For thilke peyne and thilke hoote firIn which thow whilom brendest for desir,Whan that thow usedest the beauteeOf faire, yonge, fresshe Venus free,And haddest hire in armes at thy wille --Although thee ones on a tyme mysfille,Whan Vulcanus hadde caught thee in his lasAnd foond thee liggynge by his wyf, allas! --For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte,Have routhe as wel upon my peynes smerte."

Harmonia receives the cursed brooch

And whan that he [Troilus] was slayn in this manere [that is, by Achilles], His lighte goost ful blisfully is wentUp to the holughnesse of the eighthe spere, In convers (converse/opposite side) letyng ("letting" i.e. abandoning) everich element; And ther he saugh with ful avysement (deliberation, consideration)The erratik sterres, herkenyng armonye With sownes ful of hevenyssh melodie.

And down from thennes faste he gan avyse (see, consider)This litel spot of erthe that with the se Embraced is, and fully gan despise This wrecched world, and held al vanite To respect of the pleyn felicite That is in hevene above; and at the laste, Ther he was slayn his lokyng down he caste,

And in hymself he lough right at the wo Of hem that wepten for his deth so faste, And dampned al oure werk that foloweth so The blynde lust, the which that may nat laste, And sholden al oure herte on heven caste; And forth he wente, shortly for to telle, Ther as Mercurye sorted hym to dwelle.

--Chaucer, Troilus and Criseyde Book V.1807-1827)

"Blisful is that man that may seen the clerewelle of good! Blisful is he that mai unbyndenhym fro the boondes of the hevy erthe! Thepoete of Trace, Orpheus, that whilome hadderyght greet sorwe for the deth of his wyf, aftirthat he hadde makid by his weeply songes thewodes moevable to renne, and hadde makidthe ryveris to stonden stille, and hadde makedthe hertes and the hyndes to joynen dreedleshere sydes to cruel lyouns for to herknenhis song, and hadde maked that thehare was nat agast of the hound, whiche wasplesed by his song; so, whanne the moste ardauntlove of his wif brende the entrayles of hisbreest, ne the songes that hadden overcomenalle thinges ne mighten nat asswagen hir lordOrpheus, he pleynid hym of the hevenegoddis that weren cruel to hym."He wente hym to the houses of helle,and ther he tempride his blaundysschingesonges by resounynge strenges, and spakand song in wepynge al that evere he hadderesceyved and lavyd out of the noble welles ofhis modir Callyope the goddesse.

And he sang with as mochel as he myghte of wepynge, andwith as moche as love that doublide his sorwemyghte yeve hym and teche hym, and hecommoevde the helle, and requyred and bysoughteby swete preyere the lordes ofsoules in helle of relessynge, that is to seyn,to yelden hym his wyf. Cerberus, the porterof helle, with hise thre hevedes, was caught andal abasschid of the newe song. And the thregoddesses, furiis and vengeresses of felonyes,that tormenten and agasten the soules by anoy,woxen sorweful and sory, and wepyn teeris forpite. Tho was nat the heved of Yxion ytormentedby the overthrowynge wheel. And Tantalus, thatwas destroied by the woodnesse of longthurst, despyseth the floodes to drynken.The foul that highte voltor, that etith thestomak or the gyser of Tycius, is so fulfild ofhis song that it nil eten ne tiren no more. At thelaste the lord and juge of soules was moevid tomisericordes, and cryede: "We ben overcomen,"quod he; "yyve we to Orpheus his wif to berenhym compaignye; he hath wel ybought hire byhis faire song and his ditee."

"But we wolen putten a lawe in this and covenaunt in the yifte;that is to seyn that, til he be out of helle, yifhe loke byhynde hym, that his wyf schalcomen ageyn unto us." But what is he that mayyeven a lawe to loverys? Love is a grettere laweand a strengere to hymself thanne any lawe thatmen mai yyven. Allas! Whanne Orpheus and hiswif weren almest at the termes of the nyght(that is to seyn, at the laste boundes of helle),Orpheus lokede abakward on Erudyce his wif,and lost hire, and was deed."This fable apertenith to yow alle, whosoeveredesireth or seketh to lede histhought into the sovereyn day, that is to seyn, tocleernesse of sovereyn good. For whoso thatevere be so overcomen that he ficche his eieninto the put of helle, that is to seyn, whoso settehis thoughtes in erthly thinges, al that evere hehath drawen of the noble good celestial he lesithit, whanne he looketh the helles, that is to seyn,into lowe thinges of the erthe.