Early English Poetry, Ballads, and Popular Literature of the Middle Ages, 18 tomas

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Percy Society, 1846

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75 psl. - I called Counseyle, and prayed hym to awake To gyve me counseyle what were best to take. Ha, ha! quod he, love doth you so prycke, That yet your heart will nothynge be eased, But evermore be feble and sycke, Tyll that your lady hath it well appesed; Thoughe ye thynke longe, yet ye shall be plesed. I wolde, quod I, that it were as ye say. Fye, fye, quod he, dryve suche dyspayre away, And lyve in hope, whych shall do you good. Joy cometh after, whan the payne is past. Be ye pacyent and sobre in mode;...
59 psl. - And of muche people there was great prease; I loked about whether I coude se La Bell Pucell, my langour to cease; I coude not se her; my payne dyd encrease, Tyl that I spyed her above, in a vaute, Whiche to my hert did make so sore assaute, Wyth her beaute clere and swete countenaunce, The stroke of love I coulde nothynge resyste: And anone, wythout lenger cyrcumstaunce, To her I wente, or that her person wyste; Her thought I knewe not, she thought as she lyst; By her I stode, with herte sore and...
82 psl. - Pucell. Ha, ha ! what vayleth all your flattery ? Your fayned wordes shall not me appese To make myne herte to enclyne inwardly; For I my selfe nowe do nothynge suppose But for to prove me you flatter and glose. You shall not dye as longe as you speke, There is no love can cause your herte to breke. Amoure. I wolde, madame, ye hadde prerogatyve To knowe the prevyte of my perfyte mynde, How all in payne I lede my wofull lyfe; Than, as I trowe, ye wolde not be unkynde, But that some grace I myght in...
129 psl. - To my wylfull herte was nought impossyble, 1 bare my selfe so without doubtaunce My herte made my courage invyncible, Of whiche the trouthe was soone intellygyble, With my behavynge before the preemynence Of kynge Melezius famous excellence. Which right anone for dame Minerve sent, And me also, with sir Trouth to obey. We thought full litell what the mater ment, But unto him we toke anone the way, Entring the chambre so fayre, clere, and gay. The king us called unto his person, Sayeng: I wyll Graund...
149 psl. - ... dishonesty, For love dishonest hath no certaynte. And sithen that I was cause you be gone Fyrst for to love, I shall a letter make Unto your lady, and send it by my sonne, Lytle Cupyde, that shall it to her take, That she your sorow may detray or slake. Her harded herte it shall well revolve, Wyth pyteous wordes that shall it dissolve. And right anon, as the mater foloweth, She caused Sapyence a letter to wryte; Lo! what her favour unto me avayleth Whan for my selfe she did so well indite, As...
89 psl. - ... depart, by the compulcyon Of my frendes, I wyl not you begyle, Though they me led to a ferre nacion, My heart shall be without variacion Wyth you present, in perfite sykernes, As true and stable without doublenes. To me to come is harde and daungerous, When I am there; for gyauntes ugly, Wyth two monstres also, blacke and tedyous, That by the waye awayte full cruelly For to distroye you yll and utterly, Whan you that way do take the passage, To attayne my love by hye advauntage. Amoure. All that,...
17 psl. - And in the roufe on hye over all Of golde was made a ryght crafty vyne; In stede of grapes the rubies there did shyne. The flore was paved with berall clarified, With pillers made of stones precious, Like a place of pleasure so gayely glorified, It might be called a palaice glorious, So muche delectable and solacious. The hall was hanged, hye and circuler, With cloth of arras in the rychest maner...
31 psl. - ... new invencion, of ydelnes the foo! We may you laude, and often prayse also, And specially for worthy causes thre, Whiche to thys daye we may both here and se. As to the fyrst, your hole desyre was set Fables to fayne to eschewe ydlenes, Wyth amplyacion more connyng to get, By the laboure of inventyfe busynes, Touchynge the trouthe by covert lykenes To dysnull vyce and the vycious to blame; Your dedes therto exemplifyde the same. And secondly, ryght well you dyd endyte Of the worthy actes of many...
147 psl. - 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...
54 psl. - And betweue vertue and the lyfe vycyous Of goddes and goddes, a boke solacyous He did compyle, and the tyme to passe, Of love he made the bryght temple of glasse. Were not these thre gretly to commende, Whyche them applyed such bokes to contryve, Whose famous draughtes no man can amende? The synne of slouth they dyd from them...

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