[6-text p 153]
How þat / this blisful tidynge is bifalle
And othere tidynges / speedful for to seye
He tath the lettre / and forth he goth his weye
Line 728
¶ This Messager / to doon his auauntage
Vn to the kynges moder / rideth swithe
And salueth ful faire / in his langage
Ma dame quod he / ye may be glad and blithe
Line 732
And thanketh god / an hundred thousand sithe
My lady queene / hath child with outen doute
To ioye and blisse / of al this regne aboute
Line 735
¶ Lo here the lettres / seled of this thyng
That I moot bere / with al the haste I may
If ye wol aught vn to youre sone the kyng
I am youre seruaunt bothe nyght and day
Line 739
Donegild answerde / as now at this tyme nay
But here al nyght I wol thow take thy reste
To morwe / wol I seye thee what me leste
Line 742
[Thi]s Messager / drank sadly ale and wyn [folio 122b]
And stolen were / his lettres pryuely
Out of his box / whil he sleep as a swyn
And countrefeted / was ful subtilly
Line 746
Another lettre / wroght ful synfully
Vn to the kyng direct of this matere
ffro his Constable / as ye shal after heere
Line 749
¶ The lettre spak / the queene deliuered was
Of so horrible / a fendlich creature
That in the Castel / noon so hardy was
That any while / dorste ther endure
Line 753
The moder was an Elf / by auenture
Ycomen / by charmes / or by sorcerye
And euerich / hateth hir compaignye
Line 756
