Thus all the cytie upon her did wonder,
For perfite sorowe her harte was nere asunder;
And thus Vyrgyle, with crafty subtilnes,
Rewarded her falshode and doublenes.

All this I tell though that I be a fole,

To the, yong knight, for thou maist go to schole, In tyme commyng of true love to learne.

Beware of that for thou canst not decerne

Thy ladies mynde: though that she speake the fayre,
Her harte is false, she wyll no truthe repayre.
Nay, quod I, they are not all disposed
So for to do as ye have here disclosed.
Aha! quod he, I trowe well ye be

A true lover: so mote I thrive and the,

Let not thy lady of thy harte be rother;

When thou art gone, she wyll sone have another.

Thus forth we rode tyll we sawe afarre

A royall tower as bryght as any starre,

To whiche we rode as fast as we myght.

When we came there, adowne my stede I lyght,
So dyd this Godfrey Gobilive also;

Into the temple after me gan go.

There sate dame Venus and Cupide her sonne,
Whiche had their parliament ryght newly begone.
To redresse lovers of their payne and wo,
Whiche in the temple did walke to and fro.

And every one his byll did present

Before Venus in her hyghe parliament.

The temple of her royall consistory
Was walled all about with yvory,
All of golde, like a place solacious,
The roufe was made of knottes curious.
I can nothing extende the goodlines
Of her temple, so much of ryches.
This Godfrey Gobilyve went lightly
Unto dame Sapience, the secretary,
That did him make this supplication
To the goddesse Venus with brevacion:
Redresse my payne of mortall heavines;
I did once woe an olde mayden ryche
A foule thefe, an olde wydred wiche.
Fayre mayde, I sayd, will ye me have?
Nay sir, so God me kepe and save!
For you are evill favoured and also ugly,
I am the worse to se your visnamy;
Yet was she fouler many an hundred folde
Then I my selfe, as ye may well beholde.
And therewithall he caused to depaynte
His face and hers, all under his complaynte.
And to Venus he made deliveraunce
Of his complaint by a short circumstaunce;
Whiche ryght anone, when she had it sene,
Began to laughe with all the courte I wene.
Lo here the fygures of them both certayne,
Judge whiche is best favoured of them twayne.
Thus Godfrey Gobilyve did make such a sporte,
That many lovers to hym did resorte;
When I sawe tyme I went to Sapience,
Shewyng to her with all my diligence
Howe that my hart by Venus was trapt,
With a snare of love so prively bewrapt;

So was my herte by the stroke of love
With sorow prest, and with mortall payne;
That unneth I myght from the place remove,
Where as I stode I was so take certayne,
Yet up I loked to se her agayne,

And at aventure with a sory moode,
Up than I went where as her person stode.

And first of all my herte gan to lerne
Right well to register in remembraunce,
How that her beautie I might than decerne,
From top to to endued with pleasaunce,
Which I shall shew withouten variaunce;
Her shining here so properly she dresses
Alofe her forehed with fayre golden tresses.

Her forehead stepe, with fayre browes ybent,
Her eyen gray, her nose streyght and fayre,
In her whyte chekes the fayre bloud it went
As among the whyte the rede to repayre:
Her mouth right small, her breth swete of ayre,
Her lyppes softe and ruddy as a rose,

No hert on lyve but it wold him appose.

Wyth a lyttle pytte in her well-favored chynne;
Her necke longe as whyte as ony lylly,

With vaynes blew in which the blode ran inne;
Her
paypes round and therto right prety;
Her armes sclender and of goodly body;
Her fingers small and therto right longe,
White as the milke, with blew vaynes among.

Her fete proper, she gartered well her hose,
I never saw so swete a creature;

Nothing she lacketh as I do suppose,
That is longing to fayre dame Nature;
Yet more over her countenaunce so pure,
So swete, so lovely, wold my hert inspyre,
Wyth fervent love to attayne his desyre.

But what for her maners passeth all,
She is both gentyll, good, and vertuous;
Alas! what fortune did me to her call
Without that she be to me piteous?
With her so fettered in paynes dolorous,
Alas! shall pite be from her exyled,
Which all vertues hath so undefiled?

Thus in my mynde whan I had engraved
Her goodly countenaunce and fayre figure,
It was no wonder that I was amased,

My herte and minde she had so tane in cure.
Nothing of love I durst to her discure;
Yet for bicause I was in her presence,
I toke acquaintaunce of her excellence.

My herte was drenched in great sorow depe,
Though outwardly my countenaunce was lyght;
The inward wo into hert did crepe,
my

To hide my payne it was great force and myght.
Thus her swete beaute with a soden sight

My hert hath wounded, which much nedes obey Unto such a sorow, alas, welawaye!

For she is gone, and departed right ferre,
In her countre where she doth abyde;
She is now gone, the fayre shining sterre!
O lady Venus! I pray the provide
That I may after at the morow tide,
And by the way, with hert rigorious,
To subdue mine enemies contrarious.

And yet thy grace moost humbly I pray,
To send thy sonne lytle Cupide before,
With loving letters as fast as thou may,
That she may know somwhat of my paynes sore,
Which for her sake I suffer evermore.
Now, lady Venus, with my hole intent
Of lyfe or death I byde the judgement.

Well than, sayd Venus, I have perseveraunce
That you know somwhat of mighty power
Which to my court sue for my quayntaunce,
To have release of your great paynes sower.
Abyde a whyle, ye must tary the hower;
The time renneth toward right fast:
Joy cometh after whan the sorow is past.

Alas! I sayd, who is fettered in chaynes
He thinketh long after delyveracion
Of his great wo and eke mortall paynes;
For who abideth paynfull penaunce
Thinketh a short whyle a longe contynuaunce;
Who may not speke with her he loveth best,
It is no wonder though he take no rest.