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Unto her chambre she is gone,
And fell in fownyng sone anone,
With much forow and fighing fore,
Yet seven year she kept hym thore.

But leve we of that lady here,
And speake we more of that fquyer,
That in pryfon so was take,
For the kinges doughters fake.
The kyng hymfelfe, upon a daye,
Full pryvely he toke the waye,
Unto the pryfon sone he came,
The fquyer fone out he name,
And anone he made hym swere
His counsayl he should never diskere.
The squyer there helde up his hande,
His byddyng never he should withstande.
The kyng him graunted ther to go
Upon his jorney to and fro,
And brefely to passe the sea,
That no man weste but he and he,
And whan he had his jurnay done,
That he wolde come full soone :
16 And in chambre for to be,
The whyles that i do ordayne for thee :

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Than shalt thou wedde my doughter dere,
And have my landes both farre and nere.”
The fquyer was full mery tho,
And thanked the kynge, and forth gan go.
The kyng hym gave both lande and fe.
Anone the fquyer passed the se.
In Tuskayne and in Lumbardy,
There he dyd great chyvalry,
In Portyngale, nor yet in Spayne,
There myght no man stand hym agayne;
And where that ever that knyght gan fare,
The worshyp with hym away he bare :
And thus he travayled seven yere,
In many a land both farre and nere;
Tyll on a day he thought hym tho
Unto the fepulture for to go;
And there he made his offeryng soone,
Right as the kinges doughter bad him don.
Than he thought hym on a day
That the kynge to hym dyd saye.
He toke his leve in Lumbardy,
And home he came to Hungry.
Unto the kynge soone he rade,
As he before his covenaunce made,

900 910

And to the kyng he tolde full foone
Of batayles bolde that he had done,
And so he did the chyvalry
That he had fene in Lumbardy.
To the kynge it was good tydande,
Anone he toke him by the hande,
And he made him full royall chere,
And fayd, Welcome, my fonne fo dere.
Let none wete of my meyne
That out of prison thou shuldest be,
But in thy chamber holde the ftyll,
And i shall wete my doughters wyll.
The kynge wente forth hymfelfe alone,
For to here his doughters mone,
Right under the chambre-window,
There he might her counseyle knowe.
Had the wyst, that lady fre,
That her father there had be,
He Thulde not, withouten fayle,
Have knowen fo muche of her counsayle,
Nor nothing she knew that he was there
Whan she began to carke and care.
Unto that body she fayd tho,
Alas, that we should parte in two!

920 930

Twyfe or thryfe she kyssed that body,
And fell in fownynge by and by.
Alas! than fayd that lady dere,
I have the kept this seven yere,
And now ye be in powder small,
may no lenger holde


My love, to the earth i fhall the brynge,
And preestes for you to reade and fynge.
Yf any man alke me what i have here,
I wyll say it is my treasure.
Yf any man alke why i do so,
For no theves shall come therto :
And, squyer, for the love of the,
Fy on this worldes vanyte !
Farewell golde, pure and fyne;
Farewell velvet, and latyne;
Farewell castelles, and maners allo;
Farewell huntynge, and hawkynge to;
Farewell revell, myrthe, and play ;
Farewell pleasure, and garmentes gay ;
Farewell perle, and precyous stone ;
Farewell my juielles everychone;
Farewell mantell, and scarlet reed;
Farewell crowne unto my heed;


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Farewell hawkes, and farewell hounde ;
Farewell markes, and many a pounde ;
Farewell huntynge at the hare ;
Farewell harte and hynde for evermare.
Nowe wyll i take the mantell and the rynge,
And become an ancresse in my lyvynge:
And yet i am a mayden for thee,
And for all the men in Chryftentè.
To Chryft i fhall my prayers make,
Squyer, onely for thy fake;
And i shall neve: no maffe heare,

ye shall have parte in feare: And every daye whyles i lyve, Ye shall have


masses fyve,
And i shall offre pence thre,
In tokenynge of the trynytè.
And whan this lady had this fayde,
In sownyng Me fel at a brayde.
The whyle she made this great mornynge,
Under the wall stode har father the kynge.
Doughter, he fayde, you must not do so,
For all those vowes thou must forgo.
“ Alas, father, and weleawaye !
Nowe have ye harde what i dyde faye.”


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