And saw him kepit with a busche of speiris; 130
Considering him so able for the weiris,

A radius 10 crown of rubeis scho him gaif,
And said, "In feild go furth, and fend the laif."

'And sen thow art a king, thow be discreit; Herb without vertew thow hald nocht of sic 12 pryce

As herb of vertew and of odor sueit;

And lat no nettill, vyle and full of vyce,
Hir fallow 13 to the gudly flour-de-lyce;
Nor latt no wyld weid,1 full of churlicheness,
Compair hir till the lilleis nobilness;

15

"Nor hald non udir flour in sic denty
As the fresche Ross, of cullour reid and quhyt;
For gife 16 thow dois, hurt is thyne honesty,
Considdering that no flour is so perfyt,
So full of vertew, plesans," and delyt,
So full of blisful angellik bewty,
Imperiall birth, honour and dignite."

Than to the Ross scho turnit hir visage,
And said, "O lusty dochtir most benyng,
Aboif the lilly, illustare 18 of lynnage,
Fro the stok ryell 19 rysing fresche and ying,20
But ony spot or macull 22 doing spring:
Cum, blowme of joy, with jemis to be cround,
For oure the laif " thy bewty is renownd."

21

25

24

23

140

150

A coistly croun, with clarefeid 26 stonis brycht,
This cumly quene did on hir heid incloiss,27
Quhill 28 all the land illumynit of the licht;
Quhairfoir, me thocht, all flouris did rejoiss,
Crying attonis, "Haill be thow, richest Ross!
Haill hairbis 20 empryce, haill freschest quene of

18 illustrious 19 royal 20 young 21 without 22 blemish 26 clear

23 springing

24 above the rest

27 inclose

28 while 29 herbs'

25

5 costly

And right anone La Bell Pucell me sent Agaynst my weddyng of the saten fyne, White as the mylke, a goodly garment Braudred with pearle that clearely dyd shine. And so, the mariage for to determine, Venus me brought to a royal chapell, Whiche of fine golde was wrought everydell.

And after that the gay and glorious La Bell Pucell to the chapell was leade In a white vesture fayre and precious, With a golden chaplet on her yelowe heade; And Lex Ecclesie did me to her wedde. After whiche weddyng then was a great feast; Nothing we lacked, but had of the best.

What shoulde I tary by longe continuance Of the fest? for of my joy and pleasure Wisdome can judge, without variaunce, That nought I lacked, as ye may be sure, Paiyng the swete due dette of nature. Thus with my lady, that was fayre and cleare, In joy I lived full ryght, many a yere.

O lusty youth and yong tender hart, The true companion of my lady bryght! God let us never from other astart,3 But all in joye to live bothe daye and nyght. Thus after sorowe joye arived aryght; After my payne I had sport and playe; Full litle thought I that it shoulde decaye,

59

20

30

40

Toward heven to folow on the way Thou arte full slow, and thinkest nothing' That thy nature doth full sore decaye And deth right fast is to the comyng. God graunte the mercy, but no time enlongyng. Whan thou hast time, take tyme and space; Whan time is past, lost is the tyme of grace.

And whan erth to erth is nexte to reverte And nature low in the last age, Of erthly treasure erth doth sette his herte Insaciately upon covetyse to rage; He thynketh not his lyfe shall asswage; 7 His good is his God, with his great ryches; He thinketh not for to leve it doutles.8

5

35

42

The pomped clerkes, with foles delicious," Erth often fedeth with corrupt glotony, And nothing with werkes vertuous; The soule doth fede ryght well ententifly," But without mesure full inordinatly The body lyveth and wyll not remember Howe erth to erth must his strength surrender. 49

1 thee 2 availeth 3 equal, just

6

THE EXCUSATION OF THE AUCTHOURE

CAPIT. XLVI

longing covetousness 7 cease 8 doubtless 10 fond of pleasure

11 carefully

FROM WHY COME YE NOT TO

COURT?

Ones yet agayne

Of you I wolde frayne,1

Why come ye nat to court?

To whyche court?

To the kynges courte,

Or to Hampton Court?

Nay, to the kynges court!
The kynges courte

Shulde have the excellence;

But Hampton Court

Hath the preemynence,
And Yorkes Place,
With my lordes grace,
To whose magnifycence
Is all the conflewence,

Sutys and supplycacyons,
Embassades of all nacyons.
Strawe for lawe canon!

Or for the lawe common!

Or for lawe cyvyll!

It shall be as he wyll:

Stop at law tancrete,2

An obstract or a concrete;

Be it soure, be it swete,
His wysdome is so dyscrete,
That in a fume or an hete,
Wardeyn of the Flete,
Set hym fast by the fete!
And of his royall powre
Whan him lyst to lowre,

Than, have him to the Towre,
Saunz aulter remedy,

Have hym forthe by and by

5

400

410

420

My name is Colyn Cloute.

I purpose to shake oute
All my connyng bagge,
Lyke a clerkely hagge;

'insists to the king. 2 plunder from blindness of heart. 5 free 6 potsherds I call God to witness.

50

blind vertigo us, O Lord! 8 blood royal