They bathyd hur in erbys ofte,
And made hur fore fydes softe,
For almofte was fche dedd:
They fed hur wyth full ryche fode,
And all thyng that hur nede stode,
They fervyd hur in that stedd.

The lorde comawndyd hys men everychon
That tythynges of hur they fhulde sper noon,

Nor ones afke of whens fche were.

Unto the stabull they ledd hur stede,

And all hur odur gere they dud lede,

Unto a chaumbur dere.

The lorde had a doghtur feyre

That hyght Betres, fchulde be hys heyre,

Of vyfage feyre and clere;

To Florence they can hur kenne,

To lerne hur to behave hur among men,
They lay togedur in fere,

In bedd togedur, wythowte lefynge.
Florence that was feyre and yynge,

Yf any man hur befoght

Of love, fche gaf them foche answare
That they wolde never aske hur mare,
That was fo worthely wroght.

1560

1570

Sche preyed to god that boght hur dere,

To fende hur fownde to fyr Emere,

That hur full dere had boght.
Be that he was comyn to Rome,
He thoght hyt a full carefull come,
Where fche was he wyfte noght..

1580

Off Garcy y wyll telle yow mare,

That was cawfer of hur evyll fare,

And cawfyd hur fadur to be slayne, Emere vengyd well hys dedd,

And broght hym fro hys ftrenkyth full stedd,

To grete Rome agayne.

There lykyd hym noght to bee,

And foone there-aftur dyed he,

The fothe ys not to layne;

Sche fawe hym never wyth hur eye,

1590

That cawfyd hur all that forowe to drye,

Of hur have we to sayne.

Wyth fyr Turry dwellyd a knyght

That hardy was, and Machary he hyght,

He was bolde as any bare:

To hys lemman he wolde have had that bryght,

And spyed hur bothe day and nyght,

Therof came mekyll care.

Tyll hyt befelle upon a day,

In hur chaumbur ftode that maye,
To hur than can he fare;

He leyde hur downe on hur bedd,
The lady wepyd fore for dredd,

Sche had no focowre thare.

Before hur bedd lay a stone,

The lady toke hyt up anon,
And toke hyt yn a gethe,

On the mowthe fche hym hyt,

1600

That hys for tethe owte he spytt,

Above and also benethe.

1610

Hys mowthe, hys nose, braste owt on blood,

Forthe at the chaumbur dore he yode,

For drede of more wrethe;

And to hys chaumber he hyed hym ryght,
And dwellyd forthe a fowrtenyght,

And then he came agayne,

And tolde hys lorde that he was fchent,

Evyll betyn in a turnement,

The fothe ys not to layne:

The tethe be fmetyn owt of my mowthe,

Therfore my forowe ys full cowthe,

Me had levyr to be flayne.

1620

He wolde have be vengyd of that dede,
Florence myght full fore hur drede,
Had fche wetyn of hys trayne;

A fcharpe knyfe he had hym boght,
Of yron and stele well ywright,
That bytterly wolde byte,

And evyn to hur chaumbur he yode,
And up behynde a curten he ftode,
Therof came forowe and fyte;
When he wyfte they were on flope
To Betres throte can he grope,

In fonder he fchare hyt tyte.
And yyt the thefe, or he wolde leeve,
He put the hafte in Florence neeve,
For fche fchulde have the wyte.

Forthe at the chaumber dore he yode,

And Betres lay burlyng in hur blode,

And Florence flepyd faste.

Hur fadur thoght in a vyfyon,

Hys doghtur fchulde be ftrekyn downe,

Wyth a thonder blafte;

And as a thyck leyghtenyng abowte hur ware:

Up he starte wyth mekyll care,

And a kyrtell on he caste;

1630

1640

A candyll at a lawmpe he lyght,

And to hur chaumber reykyd he ryght,

Thorowly on he thrafte;

And fonde Betres hys doghtur dedd,
The bedd was full of blode redd,

1650

And a knyfe in Florence hande.
He callyd on Eglantyne hys wyfe,
Knyghtys and ladyes came belyfe,
Wondur fore wepeande;

Gentyll wemen fore dud wepe,
And evyr can feyre Florence flepe,
That was fo feyre to fande.
Sche glyfte up wyth the hedeows store,
A forowfull wakenyng had fche thore,
Soche a nodur was nevyr in lande;

Abowte the bedd they prefyd thyck,
Among them came that traytur wyck,
The whych had done that dede.
He feyde, Syr, y fchall fet a ftake.
Wythowte the towne a fyre to make,

And Florence thedur lede.

Ye myght fee, be hur feyre clothyng,
That fche was no erthely thynge,

And be hur grete feyre-hede.

1660

1670