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Both night and day these lovers true · Suffred great paine, wo, and grevaunce, How eche to other theyr minde might shewe;

Tyll at the last, by a fodaine chaunce,

This knight was in a garden grene,

And thus began him to complayne, Alas! he fayd, with murnynge eyen,

Now is my herte in wo and payne.

From mournynge can i nat refrayne,

This ladyes love dothe me so wounde, I feare she hath of me disdayne :

With that he fell downe to the grounde.

The lady in a wyndowe laye,

With herte colde as any stone, She wyst nat what to do nor saye · Whan she herde the knightes mone.


Sore lighed that lady of renowne,

In her face was no colour founde, Than into the gardein came the downe,

And sawe this knight lye on the grounde.

Whan she sawe hym lye fo for her fake,

Her hert for wo was almooft gone, To her comforte coude she none take,

But in fwoune fell downe hym upon,

So fadly that the knyght awoke, .

And whan that he sawe her so nere, To hym comforte anone he toke,

And began the lady for to chere.


He sayd, Lady and love, alas,

Into this cure who hath you brought? She fayd, My love, and my folas,

Your beauté ftandeth fo in my thought,

That, yf i had no worldly make,

Never none should have my herte but ye. The knyght fayd, Lady, for your fake,

I shal you love in chastytè.


Our love, he fayde, shal be none other

But chaste and true, as is betwene A goodly syster and a brother,

Fro lufte our bodyes to kepe clene.

And where so ever mi body be,

Bothe day and night, at every tyde, My simpele herte in chastitè

Shall ever more 'lady with you abide.

This lady, white as any floure,

Replete with feminine shamefaftnesse, Begayn to chaunge her fare coloure,

And to hym fayd, My love, doubteleffe,


Under suche forme i shall you love,

With faythful herte in chastitè, Next unto god that is above

Bothe in welthe and adversytè.

Eche of them kyssed other truely,

But, ever alas! ther was a fo Behynde the wall, them to efpye,

Which after torned them to muche wo.


Out of the gardyn whan they were gone,

Eche from other dyd departe, Awaye was all theyr wofull mone,

The one had lyghted the others herte.

Than this fpye, of whome i tolde,

Whyche ftode behinde the garden wall, Wente unto his lorde ful bolde,

And sayd, Syr, shewe you i shall,

By your gardyn as i was walkyuge,

I herde the knight of curtesye Which with your lady was talkinge

Of love unlawfull pryvely:


Therfore yf ye fuffre him for to procede,

Wyth your lady to have his joye, He shal bee lede fro you in dede

Or elles they bothe shall you distroye.

Whan than the lorde had understande

The wordes that the spye him tolde, He sware he would rydde him fro that [lande),

Were he never so stronge and bolde.

He sware an othe, by god almyght,

That he should never be glade certayne While that knight was in his light,

Tyl that he by fome meane were flaine.

Than let he do crye a feest,

For every man that thider wolde come, For every man bothe moost and leest,

Thyder came lordes bothe olde and yonge.

The lorde was at the table set,

And his lady by him that tide, The knight of curtesy anone was set,

And set downe on the other fyde.


Theyr hartes should have be wo-begone,

If they had knowen the lordes thought; But whan that they were styll echone,

The lorde these wordes anone forth brought:

Me thinke it is fyttinge for a knight

For aventures to enquyre,
And nat thus, bothe day and night,

At home to sojourne by the fyre.


Therfore, fyr knight of curtesye,

This thinge-wyl i you counseyll,
To ryde and go throughe the countrè,

To seke adventures for your avayle.

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