The cõforte of louers | Page 3

deth /where as I
loued best
I dyde dysprayse / to knowe theyr cruelte
Somwhat to
wysdome / accordynge to behest
Though that my body had but lytell

rest
My herte was trewe vnto my ladyes blood
For all theyr dedes I
thought no thynge but good
Some had wende the hous for to swepe
Nought was theyr besom / I
holde it set on fyre
The inwarde wo in to my herte dyde crepe
To
god aboue / I made my hole desyre
Saynge o good lorde of heuenly
empyre
Let the mount with all braunches swete
Entyerly growe /
god gyue vs grace to mete
Soma had wened for to haue made an ende
Of my bokes / before he
hadde begynnynge
But all vayne they dyde so comprehende
Whan
they of them lacke vnderstandynge
Vaynfull was & is theyr mysse
contryuynge
Who lyst the trouthe of them for to enfuse
For the reed
and whyte they wryte full true
Well sayd this lady I haue perceueraunce
Of our bokes / whiche that
ye endyte
So as ye saye is all the cyrcumstaunce
Vnto the hyghe
pleasure of the reed and the whyte
Which hath your trouth / and wyll
you acquyte
Doubte ye no thynge / but at the last ye maye
Of your
true mynde yet fynde a Ioyfull daye
Forsothe I sayd / dysdayne and straungenesse
I fere them sore / and
fals reporte
I wolde they were / in warde all doutles
Lyke as I was /
without conforte
Than wolde I thynke / my lady wolde resorte
Vnto
dame mercy / my payne to consyder
God knoweth all / I wolde we
were togyder
Though in meane season / of grene grasse I fede
It wolde not greue
me / yf she knewe my heuynesse
My trauayle is grete / I praye god be
my spede
To resyste the myght / of myn enmyes subtylnesse

Whiche awayte to take / me by theyr doublenesse
My wysdome is
lytel / yet god may graunt me grace
Them to defende / in euery maner
of cace
Lerne this she sayd / yf that you can by wytte
Of foes make frendes /

they wyll be to you sure
yf that theyr frendshyp / be vnto you knytte

It is oft stedfast / and wyll longe endure
yf alwaye malyce / they
wyll put in vre
No doubte it is / than god so hyght and stronge
Ful
meruaylously / wyl soone reuenge theyr wronge
And now she sayd come on your waye with me
Unto a goodly toure
whiche is solacyous
Beholde it yonder / full of felycyte
Quadrant it
was / me thought full meruaylous
With golden turrettes / gaye and
gloryous
Gargayled with greyho[un]des / and with many lyons

Made of fyne golde / with dyuers sondry dragons
The wyndowes byrall / without resplendysshaunt
The fayre yuery /
coloured with grene
And all aboute there was dependaunt
Grete
gargeyles of golde / full meruaylously besene
Neuer was made / a
fayrer place I wene
The ryght excellent lady toke her intresse
Ryght
so dyde I / by meruaylous swetnesse
Whan we came in / I dyde aboute beholde
The goodly temple / with
pynacles vp sette
Wherin were ymages / of kynges all of golde

With dyuers scryptures / without ony lette
Aloft the roofe / were
emeraudes full grette
Set in fyne golde / with amyable rudyes

Endented with dyamondes / and mayn turkyes
The wyndowes hystoried / with many noble kynges
The pyllers
Iasper / dyuersed with asure
By pendaunt penacles / of many noble
rynges
The pauement calcedony / beynge fayre and sure
The aras
golde / with the story pure
Of the syche of thebes / with actes
auenturous
Of ryght noble knyghtes / hardy and chyualrous
Than sayd this lady / I must now go hence
Passe ye tyme here /
accordynge to your lykynge
It maye fortune / your lady of excellence

Wyll passe her tyme here / soone by walkynge
Than maye she se /
your dolefull mournynge
And fare ye well / I maye no lenger tary

Marke well my lesson / and from it do not vary

Whan she was gone / the temple all alonge
I went my selfe / with
syghtes grete and feruent
Alas I sayd / with inwarde paynes stronge

My herte doth blede / now all to torne and rent
For lacke of conforte /
my herte is almost spent
O meruelo[us] fortune / which hast [in] loue
me brought
Where is my conforte / that I so longe haue sought
O wonderfull loue / whiche fell vnto my lotte
O loue ryght clene /
without ony thought vntrue
Syth thy fyrst louynge / not blemyssed
with spotte
But euermore / the falseshede to extue
O dolorous
payne / whiche doste renue
O pyteous herte / where is the helthe and
boote
Of thy lady / that perst the at the roote
What thynge is loue / that causeth suche turment
From whens cometh
it / me thynke it is good questy[on]
Yf it be nature / from nature it is
sent
Loue maye come of kynde by true affeccyon
Loue may
appetyte / by naturall eleccyon
Than must loue nedes be / I perceyue
it in mynde
A thynge fyrst