The works of our ancient, learned, & excellent English poet, Jeffrey Chaucer as they have lately been compar'd with the best manuscripts, and several things added, never before in print : to which is adjoyn'd The story of the siege of Thebes, by John Lidgate ... : together with The life of Chaucer, shewing his countrey, parentage, education, marriage, children, revenues, service, reward, friends, books, death : also a table, wherein the old and obscure words in Chaucer are explained, and such words ... that either are, by nature or derivation, Arabick, Greek, Latine, Italian, French, Dutch, or Saxon, mark'd with particular notes for the better understanding of their original.

Chaucer's DREAM, never Printed before the Year 1597. That which heretofore hath gone under the name of his Dream, is the Book of the Dutchess: or the Death of Blanch, Dutchess of Lancaster.

This Dream, devised by Chaucer, seemeth to be a covert report of the Marriage of John of Gaunt the King's Son, with Blanch the Daughter of Henry Duke of Lancaster, who, after long love, (during the time whereof the Poet feigneth them to be dead) were in the end by consent of Friends happily Married: figured by a Bird bringing in her Bill an Herb which restored them to life again. Here also is shewed Chaucer's match with a certain Gentlewoman, who, although she was a Stranger, was notwithstanding so well liked and loved of the Lady Blanch and her Lord, as Chaucer himself also was, that gladly they concluded a Marriage between them.

WHen Flora the queen of pleasaunce, Had whole achieued thobeysaunce Of the fresh and new season, Thorow out euery region, And with her mantle whole couert That winter made had discouert, Of auenture without light, In May I lay vpon a night Alone, and on my lady thought, And how the Lord that her wrought, Couth well entayle in Imagery And shewed had great maistry, When he in so little space Made such a body and a face, So great beauty with swich features More than in other creatures. And in my thoughts as I lay In a lodge out of the way, Beside a well in a forest, Where after hunting I tooke rest, Nature and kind so in me wrought, That halfe on sleepe they me brought, And gan to dreame to my thinking, With mind of knowliche like making, For what I dreamed as me thought I saw it, and I slept nought, Wherefore is yet my full beleeue, That some good spirit that eue, By meane of some curious port, Bare me, where I saw payne and sport, But whether it were I woke or slept, Well wot I of, I lough and wept, Wherefore I woll in remembraunce, Put whole the payne, and the pleasaunce, Which was to me axen and hele, Would God ye wist it euery dele, Or at the least, ye might o night Of such another haue a sight, Although it were to you a payne, Yet on the morow ye would be fayne, And wish it might long dure, Then might ye say ye had good cure, For he that dreames, and wenes he see, Much the better yet may hee Wit what, and of whom, and where, And eke the lasse it woll hindere, To thinke I see this with mine eene, Iwis this may not dreame kene,

But signe or signifiaunce, Of hasty thing souning pleasaunce, For on this wise vpon a night, As ye haue heard without light, Not all wakyng, ne full on sleepe About such houre as louers weepe. And cry after their ladies grace, Befell me this wonder cace, Which ye shall heare and all the wise, So wholly as I can deuise, In playne English euill written, For sleepe writer well ye witten, Excused is, though he do mis, More than one that waking is, Wherefore here of your gentilnesse, I you requyre my boistousnesse Ye let passe, as thing rude And heareth what I woll conclude, And of the endityng taketh no heed, Ne of the tearmes so God you speed, But let all passe as nothing were, For thus befell, as you shall here.

Within an yle me thought I was, Where wall, and yate was all of glasse, And so was closed round about, That leauelesse none come in ne out, Vncouth and straunge to behold, For euery yate of fine gold, A thousand fanes, aie turning, Entuned had, and briddes singing, Diuers, and on each fane a paire, With open mouth again thaire, And of a sute were all the toures, Subtily coruen after floures, Of vncouth colours during aye, That neuer been none seene in May, With many a small turret hie, But man on liue could I non sie, Ne creatures, saue ladies play, Which were such of theyr array, That as me thought of goodlihead, They passeden all, and womanhead, For to behold them daunce and sing, It seemed like none earthly thing, Such was their vncouth countinaunce, In euery play of right vsaunce, And of one age euerichone, They seemed all saue onely one, VVhich had of yeeres suffisaunce, For she might neyther sing ne daunce, But yet her countenaunce was so glad, As she so fewe yeeres had had, As any lady that was there And as little it did her dere, Of lustines to laugh and tale As she had full stuffed a male Of disports and new playes: Fayre had she been in her daies, And maistresse seemed well to be, Of all that lusty companie, And so she might I you ensure For one the conningest creature She was, and so said euerichone, That euer her knew, there fayled none, For she was sober, and well auised, And from euery fault disguised, And nothing vsed but faith and truth, That she nas young it was great ruth, For euery where and in ech place, She gouerned her, that in grace She stode alway with poore and riche, That at a word was none her liche, Ne halfe so able maistres to be, To such a lusty companie.

Befell me so, when I auised Had, the yle that me suffised, And whole the state euery where, That in that lusty yle was there, Which was more wonder to deuise, Than the Ioieux paradise, I dare well say, for floure ne tree, Ne thing wherein pleasaunce might bee, There fayled none, for euery wight, Had they desired, day and night, Riches, heale, beauty, and ease, With euery thing that them might please, Thinke and haue, it cost no more, In such a country there before, Had I not bene ne heard tell, That lives creature might dwell. And when I had thus all about, The yle auised throughout, The state, and how they were arayed, In my heart I wexe well payed, And in my selfe I me assured, That in my body I was well vred, Sith I might haue such a grace, To see the ladies and the place, Which were so faire I you ensure, That to my dome though that nature, Would euer striue and do her paine, She should not con ne mowattaine, The least feature to amend, Though she would all her conning spend, That to beauty might auaile, It were but paine and lost trauaile, Such part in their natiuity, Was them alarged of beauty, And eke they had a thing notable, Vnto their death, ay durable, And was, that their beauty should dure, Which was neuer seene in creature, Saue onely there (as I trow) It hath not be wist ne know, Wherefore I praise with their conning, That during beauty, rich thing, Had they been of their liues certaine, They had been quite of euery paine, And when I wend thus all haue seene, The state, the riches, that might beene, That me thought impossible were, To see one thing more than was there, That to beauty or glad conning, Serue or auaile might any thing. All sodainly as I there stood, This lady that couth so much good, Vnto me came with smiling chere, And said Benedicite, this yere Saw I neuer man here but you, Tell me how ye come hider now?

And your name, and where ye dwell? And whom ye seeke eke mote ye tell, And how ye come be to this place, The soth well told may cause you grace, And els ye mote prisoner be, Vnto the ladies here, and me, That haue the gouernaunce of this yle: And with that word she gan to smile, And so did all the lusty rout Of ladies that stood her about. Madame (qd. I) this night past, Lodged I was and slept fast, In a forest beside a well, And now am here, how should I tell, VVot I not, by whose ordinance, But onely fortunes purueiance, VVhich puts many as I gesse, To trauaile, paine, and businesse, And lettes nothing for their truth, But some sleeth eke, and that is ruth, Wherefore I doubt her brittilnes, Her variance and vnsteadfastnes, So that I am as yet afraid, And of my beyng here amaid, For wonder thing seemeth me, Thus many fresh ladies to see, So faire, so cunning, and so yong, And no man dwelling them among: Not I not how I hider come, Madame (qd. I) this all and some, What should I faine a long processe To you that seeme such a princesse, What please you commaund or say, Here I am you to obay, To my power, and all fulfill, And prisoner bide at your will, Till you duly enformed be, Of euery thing ye aske me.

This lady there right well apaid, Me by the hand tooke, and said, Welcome prisoner aduenturus, Right glad am I ye haue said thus, And for ye doubt me to displease, I will assay to do you ease: And with that word, ye anon, She, and the ladies euerichon Assembled, and to counsaile went, And after that soone for me sent, And to me said on this manere, Word for word, as ye shall here.

To see you here vs thinke maruaile, And how without bote or saile, By any subtilty or wyle, Ye get haue entre in this yle, But not for that, yet shall ye see, That we gentill women bee, Loth to displease any wight, Notwithstanding our great right, And for ye shall well vnderstond The old custome of this lond, Which hath continued many yere, Ye shall well wete that with vs here Ye may not bide, for causes twaine, Which we be purposed you to saine. Thone is this, our ordinance, Which is of long continuance, Woll not, sothly we you tell, That no man here among vs dwell, Wherefore ye mote needs retourne, In no wise may you here sojourne. Thother is eke, that our Queene Out of the Realme, as ye may seene, Is, and may be to vs a charge, If we let you goe here at large, For which cause the more we doubt, To doe a fault while she is out, Or suffer that may be noysaunce, Againe our old accustomaunce. And when I had these causes twaine Heard, O God what a paine All sodainly about mine hart, There came at ones and how smart, In creeping soft as who should steale, Or doe me robbe of all mine heale, And made me in my thought so fraid, That in courage I stode dismaid. And standing thus, as was my grace, A Lady came more than apace, With huge prease her about, And told how the Queene without Was ariued and would come in, Well were they that thider might twin, They hied so they would not abide, The bridling their horse to ride, By fiue, by sixe, by two, by three, There was not one abode with me, The queene to meet euerichone, They went, and bode with me not one, And I after a soft pase, Imagining how to purchase Grace of the Queene, there to bide, Till good fortune some happy guide Me send might, that would me bring Where I was borne to my wonning, For way ne foot knew I none, Ne witherward I nist to gone, For all was sea about the yle, No wonder though me list not smile, Seeing the case vncouth and straunge, And so in like a perilous chaunge, Imagining thus walking alone, I saw the Ladies euerichone, So that I might somwhat offer, Sone after that I drew me nere, And tho I was ware of the Queene, And how the Ladies on their kneene, With joyous words, gladly aduised, Her welcomed so that it suffised, Though she princes hole had be, Of all enuironed is with see: And thus auising, with chere sad, All sodainly I was glad, That greater joy as mote I thriue, I trow had neuer man on liue, Than I tho, ne heart more light, When of my Lady I had sight, Which with the queene come was there, And in one clothing both they were, A knight also there well beseene, I saw that come was with the queene,

Of whome the Ladies of that yle Had huge wonder long while, Till at the last right soberly, The queene her selfe full cunningly, With soft words in good wise, Said to the Ladies young and nise, My sisters how it hath befall, I trow ye know it one and all, That of long time here haue I beene, Within this yle biding as queene, Liuing at ease, that neuer wight More parfit joy haue ne might, And to you been of gouernance, Such as you found in whole pleasance, In euery thing as ye know, After our custome and our low, Which how they first found were, I trow ye wote all the manere, And who queene is of this yle, As I haue been long while, Ech seuen yeeres not of vsage, Visit the heauenly armitage, Which on a rocke so high stonds, In strange sea out from all londs, That to make the pilgrimage Is called a long perillous viage, For if the wind be not good frend, The journey dures to the end Of him that it vndertakes, Of twenty thousand one not scapes, Vpon which Rock growth a tree, That certaine yeeres beares apples three, VVhich three apples who may haue, Been from all displeasaunce saue, That in the seuen yeere may fall, This wote you well one and all, For the first apple and the bext, Which growth vnto you next, Hath three vertues notable, And keepeth youth aie durable, Beauty and looke, euer in one, And is the best in euerichone. The second apple red and grene, Onely with lookes of your yene, You nourishes in pleasaunce, Better than Partidge or Fesaunce, And feeds euery liues wight Pleasantly with the sight. The third apple of the three, Which groweth lowest on the tree, Who it beares may not faile That to his pleasaunce may auaile, So your pleasure and beauty rich, Your during youth euer liche, Your truth, your cunning, and your weale, Hath aye floured, and your good heale, Without sicknes or displeasaunce, Or thing that to you was noysaunce, So that you haue as goddesses, Liued aboue all princesses: Now is befall as ye may see, To gather these said apples three, I haue not failed againe the day, Thitherward to take the way, Wening to speed as I had oft, But when I come, I find aloft My sister which that here stands, Hauing those apples in her hands, Auising them and nothing said, But looked as she were well paid: And as I stood her to behold, Thinking how my joyes were cold, Sith I those apples haue ne might, Euen with that so came this knight, And in his armes of me aware, Me tooke, and to his ship me bare, And said, though him I neuer had seen, Yet had I long his lady been, VVherefore I should with him wend, And he would to his liues end My seruant be, and gan to sing As one that had wonne a rich thing, Tho were my spirits fro me gone, So sodainly euerichone, That in me appeared but death, For I felt neither life ne breath, Ne good ne harme none I knew, The sodaine paine me was so new, That had not the hasty grace be Of this lady, that fro the tree Of her gentilnesse so hied Me to comfort, I had died, And of her three apples, one In mine hand there put anone, VVhich brought againe mind and breath, And me recouered from the death, VVherefore to her so am I hold, That for her all things do I wold, For she was lech of all my smart, And from great paine so quite mine hart, And as God wote, Right as ye heare, Me to comfort with friendly cheare, She did her prowesse and her might, And truly eke so did this knight, In that he couth, and oft said, That of my wo he was ill paid, And cursed the ship that them there brought, The mast, the master that it wrought, And as ech thing mote haue an end, My sister here your brother frend, Con with her words so womanly This knight entreat, and conningly, For mine honour and his also, And said that with her we should go Both in her ship, where she was brought, VVhich was so wonderfully wrought, So cleane, so rich, and so araid, That we were both content and paid, And me to comfort and to please, And mine heart to put at ease, She toke great paine in little while, And thus hath brought vs to this yle, As ye may see, wherfore echone, I pray you thanke her one and one, As heartily as ye can deuise, Or imagine in any wise, At once there tho men might seen A world of Ladies fall on kneen Before my Lady that there about VVas left none standing in the rout, But altogither they went at ones To kneele, they spared not for the stones,

Ne for estate, ne for their blood, Well shewed there they couth much good, For to my Lady they made such feast, With such words, that the least, So friendly and so faithfully Said was, and so cunningly, That wonder was seing their youth, To here the language they couth, And wholly how they gouerned were, In thanking of my Lady there, And said by will and maundement, They were at her commaundement, Which was to me as great a joy, As winning of the towne of Troy Was to the hardy Greekes strong, When they it wan with slege long, To see my Lady in such a place, So receiued as she was, And when they talked had a while Of this and that, and of the yle, My lady, and the ladies there, Altogither as they were, The Queene her selfe began to play, And to the aged lady say: Now seemeth you not good it were, Sith we be altogither here, To ordaine and deuise the best, To set this knight and me at rest, For woman is a feble wight, To rere a warre against a knight, And sith he here is in this place, At my lift, danger, or grace, It were to me great vi••••any, To d•• him any tiranny, But faine I would, now will ye here, In his owne country that he were, And I in peace, and he at ease, This were a way vs both to please, If it might be, I you beseech, With him hereof you fall in speech. This lady tho began to smile, Auising her a little while, And with glad chere she said anone, Madam I will vnto him gone, And with him speake, and of him fele What he desires euery dele: And soberly this lady tho, Her selfe and other ladies two She tooke with her, and with sad chere, Said to the knight on this manere, Sir, the princes of this yle, Whom for your pleasance many mile, Ye sought haue, as I vnderstond, Till at the last ye haue her fond, Me sent hath here, and ladies twaine, To heare all thing that ye saine, And for what cause ye haue her sought, Faine would she wote, & whol your thouʒt, And why you do her all this wo, And for what cause you be her so, And why of euery wight vnware, By force ye to your ship her bare, That she so nigh was agone, That mind ne speech had she none, But as a painfull creature, Dying, abode her aduenture, That her to see indure that paine, Here weell say vnto you plaine, Right on your selfe ye did amisse, Seing how she a princes is. This knight the which cowth his good, Right of his truth meued his blood, That pale he woxe as any lead, And lookt as he would be dead, Blood was there none in nother cheke, Worldlesse he was and semed sicke, And so it proued well he was, For without mouing any paas, All sodainely as thing dying, He fell at once downe sowning, That for his wo, this lady fraid, Vnto the queene her hyed and said, Cometh on anon as haue you blisse, But ye be wise, thing is amisse, This knight is dead or will be soone, Lo where he lyeth in a swoone, Without word, or answering To that I haue said, any thing: Wherefore I doubt, that the blame, Might be hindering to your name, Which floured hath so many yere, So long, that for nothing here, I would in no wise he dyed, Wherefore good were that ye hyed, His life to saue at the least, And after that his wo be ceast, Commaund him void, or dwell, For in no wise dare I more mell Of thing wherein such perill is, As like is now to fall of this. This queene right tho full of great feare, With all the ladies present there, Vnto the knight came where he lay, And made a Lady to him say: Lo here the queene, awake for shame, What will you doe, is this good game? Why lye you here, what is your mind? Now is well seene your wit is blind, To see so many Ladies here, And ye to make none other chere, But as ye set them all at nought, Arise, for his loue that you bought: But what she said, a word not one He spake, ne answere gaue her none. The Queene of very pitty tho, Her worship, and his like also, To saue there she did her paine, And quoke for feare, and gan to saine: For woe alas what shall I doe, What shall I say this man vnto, If he die here, lost is my name, Now shal I play this perillous game? If any thing be here amisse, It shall be said, it rigour is, Whereby my name impayre might, And like to die eke is this knight: And with that word her band she laid Vpon his brest, and to him said, Awake my knight, lo it am I That to you speake, now tell me why Ye fare thus, and this paine endure, Seing ye be in country sure,

Among such friends that would you heale, Your hearts ease eke and your weale, And if I wist what you might ease, Or know the thing that you might please, I you ensure it should not faile, That to your heale you might auaile: Wherefore with all my heart I pray Ye rise, and let vs talke and play, And see how many Ladies here, Be comen for to make good chere. All was for nought, for still as stone He lay, and word spoke none, Long while was or he might braid, And of all that the Queene had said, He wist no word but at the last, Mercy twise he cried fast, That pitty was his voice to heare, Or to behold his painefull cheare, Which was not fained well was to sein, Both by his visage and his eyn, Which on the queene at once he cast, And sighed as he would to brast, And after that he shright so, That wonder was to see his wo, For sith that paine was first named, Was neuer more wofull paine attained, For with voice dead he gan to plaine, And to himselfe these words saine, I wofull wight full of malure, Am worse than dead, and yet dure, Maugre any paine or death, Against my will I fell my breath: Why nam I dead sith I ne serue, And sith my Lady will me sterue, Where art thou death art thou agast, Well shall we meete yet at the last, Though thou thee hide it is for nought, For where thou dwelst thou shalt be sought, Maugre thy subtill double face, Here will I die right in this place, To thy dishonour and mine ease, Thy manner is no wight to please, What needs thee sith I thee seche, So thee to hide my paine to eche, And well wost thou I will not liue, Who would me all this world here giue, For I haue with my cowardise, Lost joy, and heale, and my seruise, And made my soueraigne Lady so, That while she liues I trow my fo She will be euer to her end, Thus haue I neither joy ne frend, Wote I not whether hast or sloth, Hath caused this now by my troth, For at the hermitage full hie, When I her saw first with mine iye, I hied till I was aloft, And made my pace small and soft, Till in mine armes I had her fast, And to my ship bare at the last, Whereof she was displeased so, That endlesse there seemed her wo, And I thereof had so great fere, That me repent that I come there, Which hast I trow gan her displease, And is the cause of my disease: And with that word he gan to cry, Now death, death, twy or thry, And motred wot I not what of slouth. And euen with that the Queene of routh, Him in her armes tooke and said, Now mine owne knight be not euill apaid, That I a lady to you sent, To haue knowledge of your entent, For in good faith I meant but well, And would ye wist it euery dele, Nor will not do to you ywis, And with that word she gan him kisse, And prayed him rise, and said she would His welfare by her truth, and told Him how she was for his disease Right sory, and faine would him please, His life to saue: these words tho, She said to him and many mo, In comforting for from the paine, She would he were deliuered faine, The knight tho vp cast his een, And when he saw it was the queen, That to him had these words said, Right in his wo he gan to braid, And him vp dresses for to knele, The queene aussing wonder wele: But as he rose he ouerthrew, Wherefore the queene, yet eft anew Him in her armes anon tooke, And pitiously gan on him looke, But for all that nothing she said, Ne spake not like she were well paid, Ne no chere made, nor sad, ne light, But all in one to euery wight, There was seene, conning, with estate, In her without noise or debate, For saue onely a looke piteous, Of womanhead vndispiteous, That she showed in countenance, For seemed her heart from obeisance, And not for that she did her reine, Him to recure from the peine, And his heart to put at large, For her entent was to his barge Him to bring against the eue, With certaine ladies and take leue, And pray him of his gentilnesse, To suffer her thenceforth in peace, As other Princes had before, And from thence forth for euermore, She would him worship in all wise, That gentilnesse might deuise, And paine her wholly to fulfill, In honour, his pleasure and will. And during thus this knights wo, Present the queene and other mo, My lady and many another wight, Ten thousand ships at a sight, I saw come ouer the wawy flood, With saile and ore, that as I s••ood Them to behold, I gan maruaile, From whom might come so many a saile, For sith the time that I was bore, Such a nauy there before, Had I not seene, ne so arayed, That for the sight my heart played

To and fro within my brest, For joy, long was or it would rest, For there was sailes full of floures, After castels with huge toures, Seeming full of armes bright, That wonder lusty was the sight, With large toppes, and mastes long, Richly depeint and rear among, At certaine times gan repaire Small birds downe from thaire, And on the ships bounds about, Sate and song with voice full out, Ballades and Layes right joyously, As they cowth in their harmony, That you to write that I there see, Mine excuse is it may not be, For why, the matter were to long To name the birds and write their song, Whereof anon the ridings there Vnto the queene soone brought were, With many alas, and many a doubt, Shewing the ships there without, Tho gan the aged lady weepe, And said alas our joy on sleepe Soone shall be brought, ye long or night, For we discried been by this knight, For certes it may none other be, But he is of yond companie, And they be come him here to seche, And with that word her failed speche, VVithout remedy we be destroid, Full oft said all, and gan conclude, Holy at once at the last, That best was, shit their yates fast, And arme them all in good langage, As they had done of old vsage, And of fayre wordes make their shot, This was their counsaile and the knot, And other purpose tooke they none, But armed thus forth they gone Toward the walles of the yle, But or they come there long while, They met the great lord of boue, That called is the god of Loue, That them auised with such chere, Right as he with them angry were, Auailed them not their walls of glasse, This mighty lord let not to passe, The shutting of their yates fast, All they had ordained was but wast, For when his ships had found land, This lord anon with bow in hand, Into this yle with huge prease, Hied fast and would not cease, Till he came there the knight lay, Of Queene ne lady by the way, Tooke he no heed but forth past, And yet all followed at the last, And when he came where lay the knight, Well shewed he, he had great might, And forth the Queene called anone, And all the ladies euerichone, And to them said, is not thus routh, To see my seruaunt for his trouth, Thus leane, thus sicke, and in this paine, And wot not vnto whom to plaine, Saue onely one without mo, Which might him heale and is his fo, And with that word, his heauy brow He shewed the Queene and looked row, This mighty lord forth tho anone, With o looke her faults echone He can her shew in little speech, Commaunding her to be his leech, Withouten more shortly to say He thought the Queene soone should obay, And in his hond he shoke his bow, And said right soone he would be know, And for she had so long refused His seruice, and his lawes not vsed, He let her wit that he was wroth, And bent his bow and forth he goth A pace or two, and euen there A large draught, vp to his eare He drew, and with an arrow ground Sharpe and new, the Queene a wound He gaue, that piersed vnto the hart, Which afterward full sore gan smart, And was not whole of many yeare, And euen with that be of good cheare, My knight, qd. he, I will thee hele, And thee restore to parfite wele, And for each paine thou hast endured, To haue two joys thou art cured, And forth he past by the rout, With sober cheare walking about, And what he said I thought to heare, Well wist he which his seruaunts were, And as he passed anon he fond My lady and her tooke by the hond, And made her chere as a Goddes, And of beaute called her princes, Of bounty eke gaue her the name, And said there was nothing blame In her, but she was vertuous, Sauing she would no pity vse, Which was the cause that he her sought, To put that far out of her thought, And sith she had whole richesse Of womanhead, and friendlinesse, He said it was nothing fitting, To void pity his owne legging, And gan her preach and with her play, And of her beauty told her aie, And said she was a creature, Of whom the name should endure, And in bookes full of pleasaunce Be put for euer in remembraunce, And as me thought more friendly Vnto my lady, and goodlely He spake, than any that was there, And for the appuls, I trow it were, That she had in possession, Wherefore long in procession, Many a pace arme vnder other, He welke, and so did with none other, But what he would commaund or say, Forthwith needs all must obay, And what he desired at the lest, Of my lady, was by request, And when they long together had beene, He brought my lady to the Queene,

And to her said, so God you speed, Shew grace, consent, that is need, My lady tho full conningly, Right well auised, and womanly Downe gan to kneele vpon the floures, VVhich Aprill nourished had with shoures, And to this mighty lord gan say, That pleaseth you, I woll obay, And me restraine from other thought, As ye woll all thyng shall be wrought, And with that word kneeling she quoke, That mighty lord in armes her tooke, And said you haue a seruaunt one, That truer liuing is there none, VVherefore good were, seeing his trouth, That on his paines ye had routh, And purpose you to heare his speech, Fully auised him to leech, For of one thyng ye may be sure, He will be yours, while he may dure, And with that word right on his game Me thought he lough, and told my name, VVhich was to me maruaile, and fere, That what to do I nist there, Ne whether was me bet or none, There to abide, or thus to gone, For well wend I my lady wold Imagen, or deme, that I had told My counsaile whole, or made complaint Vnto that lord, that mighty saint, So verily, each thyng vnsought, He said as he had knowne my thought, And told my trouth and mine vnease, Bet than I couth haue for mine ease, Though I had studied all a weke, Well wist that lord that I was seke, And would be leched wonder faine, No man me blame, mine was the paine: And when this lord had all said, And long with my lady plaid, She gan to smile with spirit glade, This was the answere that she made, Which put me there in double peine, That what to do, ne what to seine Wist I not, ne what was the best, Ferre was my heart then fro his rest, For as I thought, that smiling signe Was token, that the heart encline Would to requests reasonable, Because smiling is fauorable To euery thing that shall thriue, So thought I tho anon bliue, That wordlesse answere in no toun Was tane for obligatioun, Ne called surety in no wise, Amongst them that called been wise. Thus was I in a joyous dout, Sure and vnsurest of that rout, Right as mine heart thought it were, So more or lesse wexe my fere, That if one thought made it wele, Another shent it euery dele, Till at the last I couth no more, But purposed as I did before, To serue truly my liues space, Awaiting euer the yeare of grace, VVhich may fall yet or I sterue, If it please her that I serue, And serued haue, and woll do euer, For thyng is none, that me is leuer, Than her seruice, whose presence Mine heauen is whole, and her absence An hell, full of diuers paines, VVhych to the death full oft me straines, Thus in my thoughts, as I stood, That vnneth felt I harme ne good, I saw the Queene a little paas Come where this mighty lord was, And kneeled downe in presence there Of all the ladies that there were, VVith sober countenaunce auised, In few words that well suffised, And to this lord anon present A bill, wherein whole her entent VVas written, and how she besought, As he knew euery will and thought, That of his godhead and his grace He would forgyue all old trespace, And vndispleased be of time past, For she would euer be stedfast, And in his seruice to the death Vse euery thought while she had breath, And sight and wept, and said no more, VVithin was written all the sore: At whych bill the lord gan smyle, And said he would within that yle Be lord and syre, both east and west, And cald it there his new conquest, And in great councell tooke the Queene, Long were the tales them betweene, And ouer her bill he read thrise, And wonder gladly gan deuise Her features faire, and her visage, And bad good thrift on that Image, And sayd he trowed her compleint Should after cause her be corseint, And in his sleeue he put the bill, Was there none that knew his will, And forth he walke apace about, Beholding all the lusty rout, Halfe in a thought with smiling chere, Till at the last, as ye shall here, He turned vnto the Queene ageine, And said to morne, here in this pleine, I woll ye be, and all yours, That purposed ben to weare flours, Or of my lusty colour vse, It may not be to you excuse, Ne none of yours in no wise, That able be to my seruise, For as I said haue here before, I will be lord for euermore Of you, and of this yle, and all, And of all yours, that haue shall Ioy, peace, ease, or in pleasaunce Your liues vse without noysaunce; Here will I in state be seene, And turned his visage to the Queene, And you giue knowledge of my will, And a full answere of your bill, Was there no nay, ne words none, But very obeisaunt seemed echone,

Queene and other that were there, VVell seemed it they had great fere, And there tooke lodging euery night, VVas none departed of that night, And some to read old Romances, Them occupied for their pleasances, Some to make verelaies, and laies, And some to other diuerse plaies: And I to me a Romance tooke, And as I reading was the booke, Me thought the sphere had so run, That it was rising of the Sun, And such a prees into the piaine Assemble gone, that with great paine One might for other go ne stand, Ne none take other by the hand, VVithouten they distourbed were, So huge and great the prees was there. And after that within two houres, This mighty lord all in floures Of diuers colours many a paire, In his estate vp in the aire, VVell two fathom, as his hight, He set him there in all their sight, And for the Queene and for the Knight, And for my lady, and euery wight, In hast he sent, so that neuer one VVas there absent, but come echone: And when they thus assembled were, As ye haue heard me say you here, VVithout more tarrying on hight, There to be seene of euery wight, Vp stood among the prees aboue A counsayler, seruaunt of loue, VVhich seemed well, of great estate, And shewed there, how no debate Owe ne goodly might be vsed In gentilnesse, and be excused, VVherefore he said, his lords will, VVas euery wight there should be still, And in pees, and one accord, And thus commaunded at a word, And can his tongue to swiche language Turne, that yet in all mine age Heard I neuer so conningly Man speake, ne halfe so faithfully, For euery thing he said there, Seemed as it insealed were, Or approued for very trew: Swiche was his cunning language new, And well according to his chere, That where I be, me thinke I here Him yet alway, when I mine one In any place may be alone: First con he of the lusty yle All thastate in little while Rehearse, and wholly euery thing, That caused there his lords comming, And euery wele and euery wo, And for what cause ech thing was so, VVell shewed he there in easie speech, And how the sicke had need of leech: And that whole was, and in grace, He told plainly why each thing was, And at the last he con conclude, Voided euery language rude, And said, that prince, that mighty lord, Or his departing, would accord All the parties there present, And was the fine of his entent, VVitnesse his presence in your sight, VVhich sits among you in his might: And kneeled downe withouten more, And not o word spake he more.

Tho gan this mighty lord him dresse, VVith cheare auised, to do largesse, And said vnto this knight and me, Ye shall to joy restored be, And for ye haue ben true ye twaine, I graunt you here for euery paine A thousand joys euery weeke, And looke ye be no lenger seeke, And both your ladies, lo hem here, Take ech his own, beeth of good chere, Your happy day is new begun, Sith it was rising of the sun, And to all other in this place, I graunt wholly to stand in grace, That serueth truely, without slouth, And to auaunced be by trouth. Tho can this knight, and I downe kneele, VVening to doe wonder wele, Seeing O Lord your great mrrcy, Vs hath enriched, so openly, That we deserue may neuer more, The least part, but euermore VVith soule and body truely serue You and yours till we sterue. And to their Ladies there they stood, This knight that couth so mikel good, VVent in hast, and I also, Ioyous, and glad were we tho, And also rich in euery thought, As he that all hath and ought nought, And them besought in humble wise, Vs taccept to their seruice, And shew vs of their friendly cheares, VVhich in their treasure many yeares They kept had, vs to great paine, And told how their seruants twaine, VVere and would be, and so had euer, And to the death chaunge would we neuer, Ne doe offence, ne thinke like ill, But fill their ordinance and will: And made our othes fresh new, Our old seruice to renew, And wholly theirs for euermore, VVe there become, what might we more, And well awaiting, that in slouth, VVe made ne fault, ne in our trouth, Ne thought not do, I you ensure, VVith our will, where we may dure.

This season past, againe an eue, This Lord of the Queene tooke leue, And said he would hastely returne, And at good leisure there sojourne, Both for his honour, and for his ease, Commaunding fast, the knight to please, And gaue his statutes in papers, And ordent diuers officers,

And forth to ship the same night He went, and soone was out of sight. And on the morrow when the aire Attempred was, and wonder faire, Early at rising of the sun, After the night away was run, Playing vs on the riuage, My Lady spake of her voyage, And said she made small journies, And held her in straunge countries, And forthwith to the Queene went, And shewed her wholly her entent, And tooke her leaue with cheare weeping, That pitty was to see that parting: For to the Queene it was a paine, As to a Martyr new yssaine, That for her woe, and she so tender, Yet I weepe oft when I remember, She offerd there to resigne, To my Lady eight times or nine, Thastate, the yle, shortly to tell, If it might please her there to dwell, And said, for euer her linage, Should to my Lady doe homage, And hers be hole withouten more, Ye, and all theirs for euermore: Nay God forbid, my Lady oft, With many conning word and soft, Said, that euer such thing should beene, That I consent should, that a Queene Of your estate, and so well named, In any wise should be attamed: But would be faine with all my hert, What so befell, or how me smert, To doe thing that you might please, In any wise, or be your ease, And kissed there, and bad good night, For which leue wept many a wight, There might men here my Lady praised, And such a name of her araised, What of cunning and friendlinesse, What of beauty with gentilnesse, What of glad and friendly cheare••••, That she vsed in all her yeares, That wonder was here euery wight To say well, how they did their might, And with a prees vpon the morrow, To ship her brought, and what a sorrow They made, when she should vnder saile, That and ye wist, ye would meruaile. Forth goeth the ship, out goeth the fond, And I as wood man vnbond, For doubt to be behind there, Into the sea withouten fere, Anon I ran, till with a waw, All sodenly I was ouerthraw, And with the water to and fro, Backward and forward trauailed so, That mind and breath, nigh was gone, For good ne harme knew I none, Til at the last with hookes tweine, Men of the ship with mikel peine, To saue my life, did such trauaile, That and ye wist ye would meruaile, And in the ship me drew on hie, And saiden all that I would die, And laid me long downe by the mast, And of their clothes on me cast, And there I made my testament, And wist my selfe not what I ment, But when I said had what I would, And to the mast my wo all told, And tane my leaue of euery wight, And closed mine eyen, and lost my sight, Auised to die, without more speech, Or any remedy to seech Of grace new, as was great need: My lady of my paine tooke heed; And her bethought how that for trouth To see me die it were great routh, And to me came in sober wise, And softly said, I pray you rise, Come on with me, let be this fare, All shall be wel, haue ye no care, I will obey ye and fulfill Holy in all that lords will, That you and me not long ago, After his list commaunded so, That there againe no resistence May be without great offence, And therefore now what I say, I am and will be friendly aye, Rise vp behold this auauntage, I graunt you inheritage, Peaceably without striue, During the daies of your liue, And of her apples in my sleue One she put, and took her leue In words few and said good hele, He that all made you send and wele, Wherewith my paines all at ones Tooke such leaue, that all my bones, For the new durense pleasaunce, So as they couth, desired to daunce, And I as whole as any wight, Vp rose with joyous heart and light, Hole and vnsicke, right wele at ease, And all forget had my disease, And to my lady where she plaid, I went anone, and to her said: He that all joies persons to please First ordained with parfite ease, And euery pleasure can depart, Send you madame, as large a part, And of his goods such plenty, As he has done you of beauty, With hele and all that may be thought; He send you all as he all wrought: Madame (quoth I) your seruaunt trew, Haue I ben long, and yet will new, Without chaunge or repentaunce, In any wise or variaunce, And so will do as thriue I euer, For thing is none that me is leuer Than you to please, how euer I fare, Mine hearts lady and my welfare, My life, mine hele, my lech also, Of euery thing that doth me wo, My helpe at need, and my surete Of euery joy that longs to me, My succours whole in all wise, That may be thought or man deuise,

Your grace Madame such haue I found, Now in my need that I am bound To you for euer so Christ me saue, For heale and liue of you I haue, Wherefore is reasoun I you serue, With due obeisaunce till I sterue, And dead and quicke be euer yours, Late, early, and at all hours, Tho came my lady small alite, And in plaine english con consite In words few, whole her entent She shewed me there, and how she ment To meward in euery wise, Wholly she came at their deuise, Without processe or long trauell, Charging me to keepe counsell, As I would to her grace attaine, Of which commaundement I was faine. Wherefore I passe ouer at this time, For counsell cords not well in rime, And eke the oth that I haue swore, To breake, me were better vnbore, Why for untrue for euermore I should be hold, that neuermore Of me in place should be report Thing that auaile might, or comfort To mewards in any wise, Andech wight would me dispise In that they couth, and me repreeue, Which were a thing sore for to greeue, Wherefore hereof more mencion Make I not now ne long sermon, But shortly thus I me excuse, To rime a councell I refuse. Sailing thus two dayes or three, My lady towards her countrie, Ouer the waues high and greene, Which were large and deepe betweene, Vpon a time me called and said, That of my hele she was well paid, And of the Queene and of the yle, She talked with me long while, And of all that she there had seene, And of the state, and of the queene, And of the ladies name by name, Two houres or mo, this was her game, Till at the last the wind gan rise, And blew so fast, and in such wise, The ship that euery wight can say, Madame er eue he of this day, And God tofore, ye shall be there, As ye would fainest that ye were, And doubt not within sixe hours, Ye shall be there, as all is yours, At which words she gan to smile, And said that was no long while, That they her set and vp she rose, And all about the ship she gose, And made good cheare to euery wight, Till of the land she had a sight, Of which sight glad God it wot, She was abashed and aboot, Aud forth goeth shortly you to tell, Where she accustomed was to dwell, And receiued was as good right, With joyous cheere and hearts light, And as a glad new auenture, Pleasaunt to euery creature, With which landing tho I woke, And found my chamber full of smoke, My cheekes eke vnto the eares, And all my body weat with teares, And all so feeble and in such wise, I was, that vnneth might I rise, So fare trauailed and so faint, That neither knew I kirke ne saint, Ne what was what, ne who was who, Ne auised, what way I would go, But by a venturous grace, I rise and walkt, sought pace and pace, Till I a winding staire found, And held the vice aye in my hond, And vpward softly so gan creepe, Till I came where I thought to sleepe More at mine ease, and out of preace, At my good leisure, and in peace, Till somewhat I recomfort were Of the trauell and great feare That I endured had before, This was my thought without more, And as a wight witlesse and faint, Without more, in a chamber paint Full of stories old and diuers, More than I can now rehearse, Vnto a bed full soberly, So as I might full sothly, Pace after other, and nothing said, Till at the last downe I me laid, And as my mind would giue me leue, All that I dreamed had that eue, Before all I can rehearse, Right as a child at schoole his verse Doth after that he thinketh to thriue, Right so did I for all my liue, I thought to haue in remembraunce, Both the paine and the pleasaunce, The dreame whole, as it me befell, Which was as ye here me tell, Thus in my thoughts as I lay, That happy or unhappy day, Wot I not so haue I blame, Of the two, which is the name: Befell me so, that there a thought, By processe new on sleepe me brought, And me gouerned so in a while, That againe within the yle, Me thought I was, whereof the knight, And of the ladies I had a sight, And were assembled on a greene, Knight and lady, with the queene, At which assembly there was said, How they all content and paid, Were wholly as in that thing, That the knight there should be king, And they would all for sure witnesse Wedded be both more and lesse, In remembraunce without more, Thus they consent for euermore, And was concluded that the knight Depart should the same night, And forthwith there tooke his voiage, To journey for his marriage,

And returne with such an host, That wedded might be least and most, This was concluded, written and sealed, That it might not be repealed In no wise but aie be firme, And all should be within a tearme, Without more excusation, Both feast and coronation, This knight which had thereof the charge, Anon into a little barge, Brought was late against an eue, Where of all he tooke his leaue, Which barge was as a mans thought, After his pleasure to him brought, The Queene her selfe accustomed aye In the same barge to play, It needeth neither mast ne rother, I haue not heard of such another, No maister for the gouernaunce, Hie sayled by thought and pleasaunce, VVithout labour East and VVest, All was one, calme, or tempest, And I went with at his request, And was the first prayed to the fest. VVhen he came in his countree, And passed had the wauy see, In an hauen deepe and large He left his rich and noble barge, And to the court shortly to tell, He went, where he wont was to dwell, And was receiued as good right, As heire, and for a worthy knight, VVith all the states of the lond, VVhich came anon at his first sond, VVith glad spirits full of trouth, Loth to do fault or with a slouth, Attaint be in any wise, Their riches was their old seruise, VVhich euer trew had be fond, Sith first inhabit was the lond, And so receiued there her King, That forgotten was no thing, That owe to be done ne might please, Ne their soueraine Lord do ease, And with them so shortly to say, As they of custome had done aye, For seuen yere past was and more, The father, the old wise and hore King of the land tooke his leue Of all his barons on an eue, And told them how his dayes past VVere all, and comen was the last, And hertily prayed hem to remember His sonne, which yong was and tender, That borne was their prince to be, If he returne to that countree Might, by aduenture or grace, VVithin any time or space, And to be true and friendly aye, As they to him had bene alway: Thus he them prayd, without more, And tooke his leaue for euermore. Knowen was, how tender in age, This young prince a great viage Vncouth and straung, honours to seche, Tooke in hond with little speeche, VVhich was to seeke a princes, That he desired more than riches, For her great name that floured so, That in that time there was no mo Of her estate, ne so well named, For borne was none that euer her blamed: Of which princes somewhat before, Here haue I spoke, and some will more. So thus befell as ye shall heare, Vnto their lord they made such cheare, That joy was there to be present To see their troth and how they ment, So very glad they were ech one, That them among there was no one, That desired more riches, Than for their Lord such a princes, That they might please, and that were faire, For fast desired they an heire, And said great surety were ywis. And as they were speaking of this, The prince himselfe him auised, And in plaine English vndisguised, Them shewed hole his journey, And of their counsell gan them prey, And told how he ensured was, And how his day he might not passe, VVithout diffame and great blame, And to him for euer shame, And of their counsell and auise, There he prayth them once or twise, And that they would, within ten daies, Auise and ordaine him such waies, So that it were no displeasaunce, Ne to this Realme ouer great grieuaunce, And that he haue might to his feast, Sixty thousand at the least, For his intent within short while Was to returne vnto his yle That he came fro, and kepe his day, For nothing would he be away. To counsaile tho the Lords anon, Into a chamber euerychone, Togither went, them to deuise, How they might best and in what wise, Puruey for their Lords pleasaunce, And the Realmes continuaunce Of honor, which in it before Had continued euermore, So at the last they found the waies, How within the next ten daies, All might with paine and diligence Be done, and cast what the dispence Might draw, and in conclusion, Made for ech thing prouision. When this was done, wholly tofore The prince, the lords all before Come, and shewed what they had done, And how they couth by no reason Find, that within the ten daies He might depart by no waies, But would be fifteene at the least, Or he returne might to his feast: And shewed him euery reason why It might not be so hastily, As he desired, ne his day He might not keepe by no way,

For diuers causes wonder great: VVhich when he heard, in such an heat He fell, for sorow and was seke, Still in his bed whole that weke, And nigh the tother for the shame, And for the doubt, and for the blame That might on him be aret, And oft vpon his brest he her, And said alas, mine honour for aye, Haue I here lost cleane this day, Dead would I be, alas my name Shall aye he more henceforth in shame, And I dishonoured and repreued, And neuer more shall be beleeued: And made swich sorow, that in trouth, Him to behold it was great routh: And so endured the dayes fiftene, Till that the Lords on an euen Him come, and told they ready were, And shewed in few words there, How and what wise they had purueyd For his estate, and to him said, That twenty thousand knights of name, And fourty thousand without blame, All come of noble ligine, Togider in a compane, VVere lodged on a riuers side, Him and his pleasure there tabide, The prince tho for joy vp rose, And where they lodged were, he goes VVithout more that same night, And these his supper made to right, And with them bode till it was dey, And forthwith to take his journey, Leuing the streight, holding the large, Till he came to his noble barge, And when this prince, this lusty knight VVith his people in armes bright, VVas comen where he thought to pas, And knew well none abiding was Behind, but all were there present, Forthwith anon all his intent He told them there, and made his cries Through his ofte that day twise, Commaunding euery liues wight, There being present in his sight, To be the morow on the riuage, VVhere he begin would his viage. The morrow come, the cry was kept, Few was there that night that slept, But trussed and purueied for the morrow, For fault of ships was all their sorrow, For saue the barge, and other two, Of ships there saw I no mo: Thus in their douths as they stood, Waxing the sea, comming the flood, Was cried to ship goe euery wight, Then was but hie, that hie might, And to the barge me thought echone They went, without was left not one, Horse, male, trusse, ne bagage, Salad, speare, gard brace, ne page, But was lodged and roome ynough, At which shipping me thought I lough, And gan to maruaile in my thought, How euer such a ship was wrought, For what people that can encrease, Ne neuer so thicke might be the prease, But all had roome at their will, There was not one was lodged ill, For as I trow, my selfe the last Was one, and lodged by the mast, And where I looked I saw such rome, As all were lodged in a towne. Forth goth the ship, said was the creed, And on their knees for their good speed, Downe kneeled euery wight a while, And praied fast that to the yle They might come in safety, The prince and all the company, With worship and without blame, Or disclaunder of his name, Of the promise he should retourne, Within the time he did sojourne, In his lond biding his host, This was their prayer least and most, To keepe the day it might not been, That he appointed had with the queen, To returne without slouth, And so assured had his trouth, For which fault this prince, this knight, During the time slept not a night, Such was his wo and his disease, For doubt he should the queene displease, Forth goeth the ship with such speed, Right as the prince for his great need Desire would after his thought, Till it vnto the yle him brought, Where in hast vpon the sand, He and his people tooke the land, With herts glad, and chere light, Weening to be in heauen that night: But or they passed a while, Entring in toward that yle, All clad in blacke with chere piteous, A lady which neuer dispiteous Had be in all her life tofore, With sory chere, and hert to tore, Vnto this prince where he gan ride, Come and said, abide, abide, And haue no hast, but fast retourne, No reason is ye here sojourne, For your vntruth hath vs discried, VVo worth the time we vs allied VVith you, that are so soone vntrew, Alas the day that we you knew, Alas the time that ye were bore, For all this lond by you is lore, Accursed be he you hider brought, For all your joy is turnd to nought, Your acquaintance we may complaine, VVhich is the cause of all our paine. Alas madame quoth tho this knight, And with that from his horse he light, VVith colour pale, and cheekes lene, Alas what is this for to mene, VVhat haue ye said, why be ye wroth, You to displease I would be loth, Know ye not well the promesse I made haue to your princesse, VVhich to perfourme is mine intent, So mote I speed as I haue ment,

And as I am her very trew, Without change or thought new, And also fully her seruand, As creature or man liuand May be to lady or princesse, For she mine heauen, and whole richesse Is, and the lady of mine heale, My worlds joy and all my weale, What may this be, whence coms this speech, Tell me Madame I you beseech, For fith the first of my liuing, Was I so fearfull of nothing, As I am now to heare you speake, For doubt I feele mine heart breake: Say on madame, tell me your will, The remnaunt is it good or ill, Alas (qd. she) that ye were bore, For, for your loue this land is lore, The queene is dead and that is ruth, For sorrow of your great vntruth, Of two partes of the lusty rout, Of ladies that were there about, That wont were to talke and play, Now are dead and cleane away, And vnder earth tane lodging new, Alas that euer ye were vntrew, For when the time ye set was past, The queene to counsaile sone in hast, What was to doe, and said great blame, Your acquaintaunce cause would and shame, And the ladies of their auise Prayed, for need was to be wise, In eschewing tales and songs, That by them make would ill tongs, And sey they were lightly conquest, And prayed to a poore feast, And foule had their worship weiued, When so vnwisely they conceiued, Their rich treasour, and their heale, Their famous name, and their weale, To put in such an auenture, Of which the sclaunder euer dure Was like, without helpe of appele, Wherefore they need had of counsele, For euery wight of them would say, Their closed yle an open way Was become to euery wight, And well appreued by a knight, Which he alas without paysaunce, Had soone acheued thobeisaunce: All this was moued at counsell thrise, And concluded daily twise, That bet was die without blame, Than lose the riches of their name, Wherefore the deaths acquaintaunce They chese, and left haue their pleasaunce, For doubt to liue as repreued, In that they you so soone beleeued, And made their othes with one accord, That eat, ne drinke, ne speake word, They should neuer, but euer weping Bide in a place without parting, And vse their dayes in penaunce, Without desire of allegeaunce, Of which the truth anon con preue, For why the queen forth with her leue Toke at them all that were present, Of her defauts fully repent, And died there withouten more, Thus are we lost for euermore, What should I more hereof reherse, Comen within come see her herse, Where ye shall see the piteous sight, That euer yet was shewen to knight, For ye shall see ladies stond, Ech with a great rod in bond, Clad in black with visage white, Ready each other for to smite, If any be that will not wepe, Or who that makes countenaunce to slepe, They be so bet, that all so blew They be as cloth that died is new, Such is their parfite repentance, And thus they keepe their ordinance, And will do euer to the death▪ While them endures any breath.

This knight tho in armes twaine, This lady tooke and gan her saine, Alas my birth, wo worth my life, And euen with that he drew a knife, And through gowne, doublet, and shert, He made the blood come from his hert, And set him downe vpon the greene, And full repent closed his eene, And saue that ones he drew his breath, VVithout more thus he tooke his death, For which cause the lusty hoast, VVhich in a battaile on the coast, At once for sorrow such a cry Gan rere, thorow the company, That to the heauen heard was the sowne, And vnder therth als fer adowne, That wild beasts for the feare, So sodainly afrayed were, That for the doubt, while they might dure, They ran as of their liues vnsure, From the woods vnto the plaine, And from the valleys the high mountaine They sought, and ran as beasts blind, That cleane forgotten had their kind. This wo not ceased, to counsaile went These Lords, and for that lady sent, And of auise what was to done, They her besought she say would sone, VVeeping full sore all clad in blake, This lady softly to them spake, And said, my lords by my trouth, This mischiefe it is of your flouth, And if ye had that judge would right, A prince that were a very knight, Ye that ben of astate echone, Die for his fault should one and one, And if he hold had the promesse, And done that longs to gentilnesse, And fulfilled the princes behest, This hasty farme had bene a feast, And now is vnrecouerable, And vs a slaunder aye durable, VVherefore I say as of counsaile, In me is none that may auaile,

But if ye list for remembraunce, Puruey and make such ordinaunce, That the queene that was so meke, With all her women dede or seke, Might in your land a chappell haue, With some remembraunce of her graue, Shewing her end with the pity, In some notable old city, Nigh unto an high way, Where euery wight might for her pray, And for all hers that haue ben trew, And euen with that she changed hew, And twise wished, after the death, And sight, and thus passed her breath. Then said the Lords of the host, And so conclude least and most, That they would euer in houses of thacke, Their liues lead, and weare but blacke, And forsake all their pleasaunces, And turn all joy to penaunces, And beare the dead prince to the barge, And named them should haue the charge, And to the hearse where lay the queen, The remnaunt went and down on kneen, Holding their honds on high gon crie, Mercy, mercy, euerish thrie, And cursed the time that euer slouth Should haue such masterdome of trouth, And to the barge a long mile, They hare her forth, and in a while All the Ladies one and one, By companies were brought echone, And past the sea and tooke the land, And in new herses on a sand, Put and brought were all anon, Vnto a City closed with stone, Where it had been vsed aye The kings of the land to lay, After they raigned in honours, And writ was which were conquerours, In an abbey of Nunnes which were blake, Which accustomed were to wake, And of vsage rise ech a night, To pray for euery liues wight, And so befell as in the guise, Ordeint and said was the seruise, Of the prince and of the queen, So deuoutly as might been, And after that about the herses, Many orisons and verses, Without note full softely, Said were and that full heartily, That all the night till it was day The people in the Church con pray, Vnto the holy Trinity, Of those soules to haue pity.

And when the night past and ronne Was, and the new day begonne, The yong morrow with rayes red, Which from the Sunne ouer all con spred, Atempered clere was and faire, And made a time of wholsome aire, Befell a wonder case and strange, Among the people and gan change Soone the word and euery woo, Vnto a joy, and some to two: A bird all fedred blew and greene, With bright rayes like gold betweene, As small thred ouer euery joynt, All full of colour strange and coint, Vncouth, and wonderfull to sight, Vpon the queens herse con light, And song full low and softely, Three songs in her harmony, Vnletted of euery wight, Till at the last an aged knight, Which seemed a man in great thought, Like as he set all thing at nought, With visage and ein all forwept, And pale, as man long vnslept, By the herses as he stood, With hasty hondling of his hood, Vnto a prince that by him past, Made the bridde somewhat agast, Wherefore she rose and left her song, And depart from us among, And spread her wings for to passe By the place he entred was, And in his hast shortly to tell, Him hurt, that backeward downe he fell, From a window richly peint, With liues of many diuers seint, And bet his wings and bled fast, And of the hurt thus died and past, And lay there well an houre and more, Till at the last of briddes a score, Come and sembled at the place Where the window broken was, And made swiche wamentacioun, That pity was to heare the soun, And the warbles of their throtes, And the complaint of their notes, Which from joy cleane was reuersed, And of them one the glas soone persed, And in his beke of colours nine, An herbe he brought flourelesse all grene, Full of small leaues and plaine, Swart and long with many a vaine, And where his fellow lay thus dede, This hearbe down laid by his hede, And dressed it full softily, And hong his head and stood thereby, Which hearb in lesse than halfe an houre, Gan ouer all knit, and after floure Full out and wexe ripe the seed, And right as one another feed Would, in his beake he tooke the graine, And in his fellowes beake certaine It put, and thus within the third Vp stood, and pruned him the bird, Which dead had be in all our sight, And both togither forth their flight Tooke, singing from vs, and their leue, Was none disturb hem would ne greue, And when they parted were, and gone Thabbesse the seeds soone echone Gadred had, and in her hand The herb she tooke, well auisand The leafe, the seed, the stalke, the floure, And said it had a good sauour,

And was no common herb to find, And well approued of vncouth kind, And than other more vertuouse, VVho so haue it might for to vse In his need, flowre, leafe, or graine, Of their heale might be certaine: And laid it downe vpon the herse VVhere lay the queene, and gan reherse, Echone to other that they had seene, And taling thus the sede wex greene, And on the dry herse gan spring, VVhich me thought a wondrous thing, And after that floure and new seed, Of which the people all tooke heed, And said, it was some great miracle, Or medicine fine more than triacle, And were well done there to assay, If it might ease in any way, The corses, which with torch light, They waked had there all that night, Soone did the lords there consent, And all the people thereto content, With easie words and little fare, And made the queenes visage bare, Which shewed was to all about, Wherefore in swoone fell whole the rout, And were so sorry most and least, That long of weping they not ceast, For of their lord the remembraunce, Vnto them was such displeasaunce, That for to liue they called a paine, So were they very true and plaine, And after this the good abbesse, Of the graine gan these and dresse, Three, with her fingers cleane and small, And in the queenes mouth by tale, One after other full easily, She put and full conningly, Which shewed soone such vertue, That preued was the medicine true, For with a smiling countenaunce The Queene vprose, and of vsaunce, As she was wont to euery wight, She made good cheere, for which sight, The people kneeling on the stones, Thought they in heauen were soule & bones: And to the prince where he lay, They went to make the same assay, And when the Queene it vnderstood, And how the medicine was good, She prayed she might haue the graines, To releue him from the paines Which she and he had both endured, And to him went and so him cured, That within a little space, Lusty and fresh on liue he was, And in good hele, and hole of speech, And lough, and said gramercy leech, For which the joy throughout the town, So great was that the bels sown Afraied the people, a journay, About the city euery way, And come and asked cause and why They rongen were so stately? And after that the queene, thabbesse Made diligence or they would cesse, Such, that of ladies soone a rout, Sewing the queene was all about, And called by name echone and told, Was none forgetten young ne old, There might men see joyes new, When the medicine fine and trew, Thus restored had euery wight, So well the queene as the knight, Vnto perfit joy and hele, That fleting they were in such wele As folke that would in no wise, Desire more perfit paradise. And thus when passed was the sorrow, With mikle joy soone on the morrow, The king, the queene, and euery lord, With all the Ladies by one accord, A generall assembly Great cry through the country, The which after as their intent Was turned to a Parliament, Where was ordained and auised, Euery thing and deuised, That please might, to most and least, And there concluded was the feast, Within the yle to be hold With full consent of young and old, In the same wise as before, As thing should be withouten more, And shipped and thither went And into straunge Realmes sent, To kings, queenes, and duchesses, To diuers princes and princesses, Of their linage and can pray, That it might like them at that day Of mariage, for their sport, Come see the yle, and them disport, Where should be jousts and turnaies, And armes done in other waies, Signifying ouer all the day After Aprill within May, And was auised that ladies tweine, Of good estate and well beseine, With certaine knights and squiers, And of the queenes officers, In manner of an embassade, With certain letters closed and made, Should take the barge and depart, And seeke my lady euery part, Till they her found for any thing, Both charged haue queene and king, And as their lady and maistres, Her to beseke of gentilnes, At the day there for to been, And oft her recommaund the queen, And prayes for all loues to hast, For but she come all woll be wast, And the feast, a businesse Without joy or lustinesse: And tooke them tokens and good speed Praid God send, after their need. Forth went the ladies and the knights, And were out fourteene daies and nights, And brought my lady in their barge, And had well sped and done their charge: Whereof the queene so hartily glad Was, that in soth such joy she had,

When the ship approched lond, That she my lady on the sond Met, and in armes so constraine, That wonder was behold them twaine, Which to my dome during twelue houres, Neither for heat ne watry shoures, Departed not no company, Sauing themselfe but none them by, But gaue them laysour at their ease, To rehearse joy and disease, After the pleasure and courages, Of their young and tender ages: And after, with many a knight, Brought were, where as for that night They parted not, for to pleasaunce, Content, was hert and countenaunce, Both of the queene, and my maistresse, This was that night their businesse: And on the morrow with huge rout, This prince of lords him about, Come and to my Lady said, That of her comming glad and well apaid He was, and full commingly Her thanked and full heartily, And lough and smiled, and said ywis, That was in doubt, in safety is: And commaunded do diligence, And spare for neither gold ne spence, But make ready, for on the morow, Wedded with saint Iohn to borow, He would be, withouten more, And let them wite this lese and more. The morow come, and the seruice Of mariage in such a wise Said was, that with more honour, Was neuer prince ne conquerour Wedde, ne with such company, Of gentilnesse in chiualry, Ne of Ladies so great routs Ne so beseen as all abouts They were there, I certifie You on my life withouten lie.

And the feast hold was in tentis, As to tell you mine entent is, In a rome a large plaine Vnder a wood in a champaine, Betwixt a riuer and a well, Where neuer had abbay, ne sell Ben, ne kirke, house, ne village, In time of any mans age: And dured three months the feast, In one estate and neuer ceast, From early the rising of the sonne, Till the day spent was and yronne, In justing, dauncing, and lustinesse, And all that sowned to gentilnesse.

And as me thought the second morrow, When ended was all old sorrow, And in surety euery wight Had with his lady slept a night, The Prince, the Queene, and all the rest, Vnto my lady made request, And her besought oft and praied, To mewards to be well apaied, And consider mine old trouth, And on my paines haue routh, And me accept to her seruise, In such forme and in such wise, That we both might be as one, Thus prayed the Queene, and euerichone: And for there should be no nay, They stint justing all a day, To pray my lady and requere, Be content and out of fere, And with good heart make friendly cheare, And said it was a happy yeare: At which she smiled and said ywis, I trow well he my seruaunt is, And would my welfare as I trist, So would I his, and would he wist How and I knew that his trouth Continue would without slouth, And be such as ye here report, Restraining both courage and sport, I couth consent at your request, To be named of your fest, And do after your vsaunce, In obeying your pleasaunce, At your request this I consent, To please you in your entent, And eke the soueraine aboue, Commanded hath me for to loue, And before other him prefer, Against which Prince may be no wer, For his power ouer all raigneth, That other would for nought him paineth, And sith his will and yours is one, Contrary in me shall be none, Tho (as me thought) the promise Of marriage before the mese, Desired was of euery wight, To be made the same night, To put away all maner douts Of euery wight thereabouts, And so was do, and on the morrow, When euery thought and euery sorrow Dislodged was out of mine hert, With euery wo and euery smert, Vnto a tent Prince and Princes, Me thought, brought me and my maistres, And said we were at full age There to conclude our marriage, With ladies, knights, and squiers, And a great host of ministers, With instruments and sounes diuerse, That long were here to rehearse, Which tent was church perochiall, Ordaint was in especiall, For the feast and for the sacre, Where archbishop, and archdiacre Song full out the seruise, After the custome and the guise, And the churches ordinaunce, And after that to dine and daunce Brought were we, and to diuers playes, And for our speed ech with prayes, And merry was most and least, And said amended was the feast, And were right glad lady and lord, Of the marriage and thaccord,

And wished vs hearts pleasaunce, Ioy, hele, and continuaunce, And to the minstrils made request, That in encreasing of the fest, They would touch their cords, And with some new joyeux accords, Mooue the people to gladnesse, And praiden of all gentilnesse, Ech to paine them for the day, To shew his cunning and his play, Tho began sownes meruelous, Entuned with accords joyous, Round about all the tents, VVith thousands of instruments, That euery wight to daunce them pained, To be merry was none that fained, VVhich sowne me troubled in my sleepe, That fro my bed forth I lepe, VVening to be at the feast, But when I woke all was seast, For there nas lady ne creature, Saue on the wals old portraiture Of horsmen, haukes, and hounds, And hurt deere full of wounds, Some like bitten, some hurt with shot, And as my dreame seemed that was not, And when I wake, and knew the trouth, And ye had seen of very routh, I trow ye would haue wept a weke, For neuer man yet halfe so seke, I went escaped with the life, And was for fault that sword ne knife I find ne might my life tabridge, De thing that kerued, ne had edge, VVherewith I might my wofull pains Haue voided with bleeding of my vains, Lo here my blisse, lo here my paine, VVhich to my lady I do complaine, And grace and mercy her require, To end my wo and busie feare, And me accept to her seruise, After her seruice in such auise, That of my dreame the substaunce Might turne once to cognisaunce, And cognisaunce to very preue, By full consent, and good leue, Or els without more I pray, That this night, or it be day, I mote vnto my dreame returne, And sleeping so forth aie sojourne About the yle of pleasaunce, Vnder my ladies obeisaunce, In her seruice, and in such wise, As it please her may to deuise, And grace ones to be accept, Like as I dreamed when I slept, And dure a thousand yeare and ten, In her good will, Amen, Amen.

Fairest of faire, and goodliest on liue, All my secret to you I plaine, and shriue, Requiring grace and of complaint, To be healed or martyred as a saint, For by my trouth I sweare, & by this booke, Ye may both heale, and slea me with a looke.

Go forth mine owne true hert innocent, And with humblesse, do thine obseruaunce, And to thy lady on thy knees present Thy seruice new, & think how great pleasance It is to liue vnder thobeisance Of her that may with her looks soft Giue thee the blisse that thou desirest oft.

Be diligent, awake, obey, and drede, And not too wild of thy countenaunce, But meeke and glad, and thy nature feed, To do each thing y^t may her pleasance, VVhen thou shalt sleep, haue aie in remem∣brance Thimage of her which may with lookes soft Giue thee the blisse that thou desirest oft.

And if so be that thou her name find Written in booke, or els vpon wall, Looke that thou as seruaunt true and kind, Thine obeisaunce as she were therewithall, Faining in loue is breeding of a fall From the grace of her, whose lookes soft May giue the blisse that thou desirest oft.

Ye that this Ballade read shall, I pray you keepe you from the fall.