We might say this for certen, & suppose it in hert,
Syn we are put in prosperite, and pepull so fele,
That any care or confusion shuld come to our rewme.
Therfor, faithfull ffader, folow your wille;
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Send furthe a soume All of sure knightes;
Let hom gird into Grise with a grym fare,
ffight with your foos, fonge of thaire goodes,
That vs harmyt so highly, & our hede sloghe;
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Our pepull to pyne, pild all our londe.
And yff it like your Aliegiaunce, þat I, your lefe son,
Be sent from your seluon with sure men of Armys,
An aioynet to þis Jorney with iuste men & sure;
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I am siker, for sothe, it shall vs wele like,
Worship to wyn, and our wille haue.
ffor my goddis me grauntid, & of grace lent,
The Grekes for to grefe, & of grem bryng;
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Confound of hor cuntres, kylle of hor pepull,
And the lustist lady in hor lond wyn;
Bryng hur to þis burghe, & no bale suffer,
That be chaunget by chaunse for your choise Sister.
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And yf ye wilne for to witte how hit worthe shulde,
I shall telle you the trewthe how me tyde euyn;
And all the case how yt come know yf ye lyste.
THE VISYON OF PARIS.
"Hit is not meuyt of mynde ne mony day past,
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Syn I was leut in a londe, þat is lefe ynde,
Your biddyng to obey, as my blithe ffader. [folio 38b]
In the season of somer, er the sun rose,
As it come into canser, and be course Entred,
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