That all the golde of Cresus hall,
The leaste coronall of all,

Might not haue boughte, after the worth.
Thus comen thei ridend forth.

The kynges doughter, whiche this sigh,
For pure abasshe drewe hir adrigh,
And helde her close vnder the bough,
And let hem still ride enough.
For as hir thought in hir auise
To hem that were of suche a prise,
She was not worthie to aske there,

Fro when they come, or what thei were,
But leuer than this worldes good,
She wolde haue wist how it stoode,
And put hir head a litell out:
And as she loked hir aboute,
She sawe comende vnder the lynde
A woman vpon an hors behynde,

The hors, on whiche she rode was blacke,
All lene, and galled vpon the backe,
And halted, as he that were encloied,
Wherof the woman was annoied.
Thus was the hors in sorie plight,
And for all that a sterre white
Amiddes in hir front she had:
Hir saddell eke was wonder bad,
In whiche the wofull woman sat.
And netheles there was with that
A riche bridell for the nones
Of golde and precious stones:
Hir cote was somedele to tore,
About hir middell twentie score
Of hors halters, and well mo
There hangen that time tho.

Thus whan she came the ladie nighe,
Then toke she better hede, and sighe
The woman was right faire of face,
All though hir lacked other grace.
And so this ladie, there she stode
Bethought bir well, and vnderstode,
That this, whiche came ridende tho,
Tidynges couthe tell of tho,
Whiche as she sigh tofore ride,
And put hir forth, and praide abide,
And said? A sister lette me here,
What ben thei, that riden nowe here,
And ben so richely arraied?

This woman, whiche come so esmaied,
Answerde with full softe speche
And saide: Madame I shall you teche.
These are of tho, that whilom were
Seruauntes to loue, and trouth bere
There as thei had their hertes sette.
Fare well. For I maie not be lette,
Madame I go to my seruice,
So muste I haste in all wise.
For thy madame yeue me leue,
I may not longe with you leue.
A good sister yet I preie,
Tell me why ye be so beseye,
And with these halters thus begone?
Madame, whilom I was one,
That to my father had a kynge
But I was slowe, and for no thynge
Me liste not to loue obeie,
And that I nowe full sore abeie.
For I whilom no loue had
My hors is nowe feble and badde,
And all to tore is myn arraie,
And every yere this fresshe maie,

These lustie ladies ride aboute,
And I must nedes sewe her route
In this maner, as ye nowe see,
And trusse her hallters forth with mee,
And am but her hors kaaue,
None other office I ne haue,
Hem thynketh I am worthy no more.
For I was slowe in loues lore,
When I was able for to lere,
And wolde not the tales here
Of hem, that couthe loue teche.

Now tell me than I you beseche,
Wherfore that riche bridell serueth?
With that awaie hir chere she swerueth,
And gan to wepe, and thus she tolde.
This bridell, whiche ye nowe beholde
So riche vpon myn hors hede
Madame afore er 1 was dede
When I was in my lusty life
There fell in to myn herte a strife
Of loue, whiche me ouercome,
So that therof hede I nome,
And thought I wolde loue a knight,
That last well a fourtenight.
For it no lenger might laste,.
So nigh my lyfe was at laste.

But nowe at laste to late ware,
That I ne had hym loued are.
For death cain so hast byme
Er I therto had any tyme,
That it ne might ben acheued.
But for all that I am releued
Of that my wille was good therto,
That loue suffreth it be so,

That I shall suche a bridell were.
Nowe haue ye herde all myn answere,
To god madame I you betake,
And warneth all for my sake
Of loue, that thei be nought idell,
And bid hem thinke vpon my bridell,
And with that worde all sodenly
She passeth, as it were a skie
All cleane out of the ladies sight.
And tho for feare hir herte aflight,
And saide to hir selfe: Alas
I am right in the same cas,
But if I liue after this daie,
I shall amende if I maie.

And thus homewarde this ladie went, And changed all hir firste entent Within hir herte, and gan to swere, That she no halters wolde bere..

Lo sonne, bere might thou take hede,
Howe idelnes is for to drede,
Nameliche of loue, as I haue writte.
For thou might vnderstonde and witte
Amonge the gentill nacion,
Loue is an occupacion,

Whiche for to kepe his lustes saue,
Shulde euery gentill herte haue.
For as the ladie was chastised:
Right so the knight maie be auised,
Whiche idell is, and woll not serue
To loue, he maie percase deserue
A greatter peine than she had,
Whan she aboute with hir lad
The hors halters: and for thy
Good is to be ware therby.
But for to loken abouen all
These maidens, howe so it fall

As thou hast vnderstonde aboue.
My father as towarde the loue
Of maydens for to telle trouthe,
Ye haue thilke vice of slouthe

Me thinketh right wonder wel declared,
That ye the women haue not spared
Of hem that tarien so behynde.

But yet it falleth in my mynde
Towarde the men, howe that ye speke
Of hem that woll no trauaile seke
In cause of loue vpon deserte,
To speke in wordes so couerte,
I not what trauaile that ye ment.

My sonne and after myn entent
I woll the telle, what I thought:
How whilom men her loues boughte
Through great trauaile in strange londes,
Where that thei wrought with her hondes
Of armes many a worthy dede,
In sondry places, as men maie rede.

Hie loquitur, quod in amoris causa militie probitas ad armorum laboris exercitium nullatenus torpescat.

THAT euery loue of pure kynde
Is fyrst forth drawe, well I fynde:
But netheles yet ouer this
Deserte dothe so, that it is
The rather had in many place.
For thy who secheth loues grace,
Where that these worthy women are,
He maie not than him selue spare
Upon his trauaile for to serue,
Wherof that he maie thanke deserue,
Where as these men of armes be,
Sometyme ouer the great sea,
So that by londe, and eke by ship
He more trauaile for worshyp,
And make many hastie rodes.
Somtime in Pruis sometyme in Rodes,
And some time in to Tartarie:

So that these herauldes on hym crie,
Vailant vaylant, lo where he goth,
And than he yeueth hem golde and cloth:
So that his fame might sprynge,
And to his ladies eare brynge
Some tidynge of his worthinesse,
So that she might of his prowesse,
Of that she herde men recorde,
The better vnto his loue accorde,
And daunger put out of hir mood,
Whan all men recorden good:
And that she wote well for hir sake,
That he no trauaile woll forsake.

My sonne of this trauaile I mene,
Now shriue the: for it shall be sene,
If thou arte ydell in this cas.

My father ye, and euer was.
For as me thynketh truely,
That enery man doth more than I,
As of this point, and if so is,
That I haue ought done so er this,

It is so littell of accompte,

As who saith, it maie not amount
To winne of loue his lustie yifte.

For this I tell you in shrifte,
That me were leuer hir loue winne,
Than Kaire, and all that is therinne.
And for to slea the heathen all

I not what good there might fall
So muche blood though there were shad:
This fynde I write, howe Christe bad,
That no man other shulde siea.
What shulde I wynne ouer the sea.
If I my ladie loste at home?
But passe thei the salte fome,

To whom Christe bad thei shulden preche
To all the worlde, and his feith teache.
But now thei rucken in her nest,
And resten, as hem liketh beste
In all the swetnes of delices.
Thus thei defenden vs the vices,
And sitten hem selfe all amidde,
Hem whom thei shuld, as the boke saithe,
To slea and fight, thei vs bidde.

Conuerten vnto Christes faithe.
But herof haue I great meruaile,
How that thei shuld me bid trauaile.
A sarazyn if I slea shall,

I slea the soule forth withall:

And that was neuer Christes lore:
But now hoo therof I saie no more.

But I woll speke vpon my shrift,
And to Cupide I make a yifte,
That who as euer price deserue
Of arme, I woll loues serue,
As though I shulde hem bothe kepe,
Als well yet wolde I take kepe,
When it were time to abide,
And for to trauaile, and for to ride.
For how as euer a man laboure
Cupide appointed hath his houre.

Hic allegat Amans in sui excusationem, qualiter Achilles apud Troiam propter amorem Polixens arma sua per aliquod tempus dimisit.

FOR I haue herde tell also,

Achilles lefte his armes so,
Both of hym selfe, and of his men,
At Troie for Polixen,

Upon hir loue when he fell:
That for no chance that befell
Amonge the grekes, or vp or downe,
He wolde nought ayene the towne
Ben armed, for the loue of hir:
And so me thinketh leue syr,
A man of armes maie him reste
Sometyme in hope for the beste,
If he maie fynde a werre nerre,
What shulde I than go so ferre?
In strange londes many a mile
To ride, and lese at home there while
My loue, it were a shorte beyete
To winne chaffe, and lese whete.
But if my ladie bide wolde,
That I for hir loue sholde
Trauaile, me thynketh truely,
I might flee through out the skie,
And go through out the depe sea,
For all ne sette I not a strea;

What thonke that I myght els gete.
What helpeth a man haue mete,
Where drinke lacketbe on the borde:
What helpeth any mans worde:
To saie howe I trauaile faste,
Where as me faileth at laste
That thynge, whiche I trauaile fore.
O in good tyme were he bore,
That might atteine suche a mede.
But certes if I might spede
With any maner besinesse

Of worldes trauaile than I gesse,
There shulde me none idelship
Departe from hir ladiship.

But this I see on daies nowe,
The blynde god (I wote not howe)
Cupido, whiche of loue is lorde,
He sette the thynges in discorde,
That thei that lest to loue entende,
Full ofte he woll hem yeue and sende
Moste of his grace: and thus I fynde,
That he that shulde go behynde,
Goth many a tyme ferre to fore.
So wote I not right well therfore,
On whether borde that I shall saile.
Thus can I nought my selfe counsaile,
But all I sette on auenture,

And am, as who saith, out of cure.
For ought that I can sey or do.
For euermo 1 fynde it so,

The more besinesse I laie,
The more that I knele and praie,
With good wordes, and with softe,
The more I am refused ofte
With besines, and maie not winne.
And in good feith that is great sinne.
For I maie seie of dede and thought,
That idell man haue I be nought.
For howe as euer that I be deslaide,
Yet euermore I haue assaide.
But though my besynesse laste,
All is but ydell at laste.
For whan theffecte is idelnesse,
I not what thynge is besinesse.
Saie what auaileth all the dede,
Whiche nothynge helpeth at nede.
For the fortune of euery fame
Shall of his ende beare a name.
And thus for ought is yet befalle,
An idell man I woll me calle,
And after myn entendement,
But vpon your amendement
Myn holy father, as you semeth,
My reason and my cause demeth.

My son I haue herde of thy matere,
Of that thou hast the shryuen here,
And for to speake of idell fare,
Me semeth that thou tharst not care,
But only that thou might not spede,
And therof sonne I woll the rede
Abide, and haste not to faste
Thy dedes ben euery daie to caste
Thou nost, what chance shall betide:
Better is to waite vpon the tide,

Than rowe ayenste the stremes stronge.
For though so be the thynke longe:
Percase the reuolucion

Of heuen, and thy condicion
Ne be not yet of one accorde,
But I dare make this recorde

To Venus, whose priest that I am:
That sithen that I hither cam
To here, as she me badde, thy life,
Wherof thou els be gyltife,
Thou might herof thy conscience
Excuse, and of great diligence,
Whiche thou to loue hast so dispended,
Thou oughtest wel to be commended.
But if so be, that there ought faile
Of that thou slouthest to trauaile
In armes for to ben absent,
And for thou makest an argument
Of that thou saidest here aboue,

How Achilles through strength of loue
His armes left for a throwe:
Thou shalt an other tale knowe,
Whiche is contrarie, as thou shalt witte.
For this a man maie finde writte,
Whan that knighthode shall be weired,
Lust maie not than be preferred:
The bed mot than be forsake,

And shelde and spere on hond take,
Whiche thing shall make hem after glade,
Whay thei be worthy knightes made:
Wherof, so as it cometh to honde,

A tale thou shalt vnderstonde,
How that a knight shall armes sewe,
And for the while his ease eschewe.

Hic dicit, quod amoris delectamento postposite, miles arma sua preferre debet, Et ponit exemplum de Ulysse, cum ipse a bello Troiano Jupiter amorem Penelope remanere domi voluisset, Nauplus pater Palamidis cum tantis sermonibus allocutus est, quod Ulysses thoro sue coniugis relicto labores armorum vna cum aliis Troie magnanimis subibat.

UPON knighthode 1 rede thus,
Howe whilom the kyng Nauplus,
The fader of Palamides,
Came for to preyen Vlysses,
With other Gregois eke also,
That he with hem to Troie go,
Where that the siege shulde be.

Anone vpon Penelope

His wife, whom that he loueth hote,
Thinkend, wolde hem nought behote:
But he shope then a wonder wile,
Howe that he shulde hem best begile,
So that he might dwelle stille
At home, and weld his loue at wille:
Wherof erly the morowe daie,
Out of his bed, where that he laie,
Whan he was vp, he gan to fare
In to the felde, and loke and stare,
As he whiche feigneth to be wood:
He toke a plough, where that it stoode,
Wherin anone in stede of oxes
He let do yoken great Foxes,
And with great salt the londe he sewe.

But Nauplus, whiche the cause knewe,
Ayene the sleighte, whiche he feigneth,
Another sleighte anone ordeineth.
And fell that tyme Vlysses had
A childe to sonne, and Nauplus bad,
How men that sonne take sholde,
And set hym vpon the molde,

Where that his fader helde the plough, In thilke forough, whiche he tho drough,

For in such wise he thought assaie,
How it Vlysses shulde paie,
If that he were wood or none.

The knightes for this child forth gone,
Telemachus anone was fette,
Tofore the plough and euen sette,
Where that his fader shulde driue.
But whan he sawe his childe as bline,
He drof the plough out of the weye.
And Nauplus tho began to seye,
And hath halfe in a iape cried:

O Vlysses, thou art aspied,
What is all this thou woldest mene?
For openliche it is nowe sene,

That though hast feigned all this thyng,
Whiche is great shame to a kynge,
Whan that for lust of any slouthe,
Thou wilten a quarel of trouthe
Of armes thilke honour forsake,
And dwelle at home for loues sake.
For better it were honour to wynne
Than loue, whiche likynge is ynne.
For thy take worship vpon honde,
And elles thou shalt vnderstonde,
These other worthie kynges all
Of Grece, whiche vnto the call,
Towardes the wol be right wroth,
And greue the per chans both:
Whiche shall be to the double shame,
Most for the hyndryng of thy name,
That thou for slouthe of any loue,
Shalt so thy lustes set aboue,
And leue of armes the knighthode,
Whiche is the price of thy manhode,
And ought first to be desired.

But he, whiche had his herte fired
Upon his wife, whan he this herde,
Nought one word there ayene answerde,
But torneth home haluyn ashamed,
And hath with in hym selfe so tamed
His herte, that all the sotie
Of loue for chiualrie

He lefte, and be hym leef or loth,
To Troie forth with hem he goth,
That he hym might not excuse.
Thus stant it, if a knight refuse
The lust of armes to trauaile.

There maie no worldes ease auaile,
But if worship be with all,
And that hath shewed ouerall.
For it sit wel in all wise

A knight to ben of highe emprise,
And putten all drede aweye.
For in this wise I haue herd seye.

A letter, for to make hym dwelle
Fro Troie, send hym, thus to telle,
Howe she hath asked of the wise
Touchend of hym in suche a wise,
That thei haue done hir vnderstonde,
Toward other howe so it stonde,
The destyne it hath so shape,
That he shall not the deth escape,
In caas that he arriue at Troie,
For thy as to hir worldes ioye,
With all hir herte she hym preyde,
And many another cause alleyde,
That he with hir at home abide.

But he hath cast hir letter a side,
As he whiche tho no manere hede
Toke of hir womanliche drede:
And forth he goth, as nought ne were
To Troie, and was the firste there,
Whiche londeth, and toke arriuaile.
For hym was leuer in the battaile,
He seith, to deyen as a knight,
Than for to liue in all his might,
And be reproued of his name.

Lo thus vpon the worldes fame Knighthode hath euer yet beset, Whiche with no cowardis is let.

Adhuc super eodem qualiter Rex Saul, non ob. stante quod Samuelem a Phitonissa suscitatum et coniuratum responsum, quod ipse in bellò moreretur, accepisset: hostes tamen suos aggrediens militie famam cunctis huius vite blandimentis preposuit.

Or kynge Saul also I finde,
Whan Samuel out of his kinde,
Through that the Phitones hath lered
In Samarie, was arered

Longe tyme after that he was dede,
The kynge Saul hym asketh rede,
If that he shall go fight or none.
And Samuel hym said anone,
The first daie of the bataile
Thou shalte be slain without faile,
And Ionathas thy sonne also.

But howe as euer it felle soo,
This worthy knight of his courage
Hath vndertake the viage,
And wolde nought his knighthode let
For no perille he couth set:
Wherof that both his sonne and he,
Upon the Mount of Gelboe
Assemblen with hir enemies.
For thei knighthode of suche a pris
By olde daies than helden,
That thei none other thyng behelden.
And thus the fader for worship,
Forth with his sonne of felauship,.

THE worthie knight Prothesalaie

On his passage, where he laie

Toward Troie thilke siege,

The whiche was all his owne liege

Laodomie his lustie wife,

Whiche for bis loue was pensife, As he whiche all bir hert had Upon a thyng, wherof she drad,

As men maie in the bible rede,
Thei whos knighthode is yet in mynde,
And shall be to the worlde ende.

Hic loquitur, quod miles in suis primordiis ad audaciam prouocari debet. Et narrat qualiter Chiro Centaurus Achillem, qui secum ab infantia in montem Peleon educauit, vt audax efficeretur, primitus edocuit, quod cum ipse venationibus ibidem insisteret, leones, et tigrides, huiusmodique animalia sibi resistencia, et nulla