The cõplaynte of a louers lyfe Lydgate, John, 1370?-1451? This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A06548 of text S3962 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 17014.7). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 36 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 18 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A06548 STC 17014.7 ESTC S3962 34382589 ocm 34382589 29021 2248558143

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A06548) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 29021) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1901:3) The cõplaynte of a louers lyfe Lydgate, John, 1370?-1451? [24] p. By Wynkyn de Worde, Jmprinted at London in the Fletestrete at the sygne of the Sonne : [1531?] Date of publication suggested by STC (2nd ed.). STC (2nd ed.) lists this item as "Anr. ed." of the "Complaint of the black knight." Imprint from colophon. Imperfect: print show-through. Signatures: A-B⁶. Reproduction of original in: British Library. eng eebo The cõplaynte of a louers lyfe Lydgate, John, 1531 35 5206 13 0 0 0 0 0 24.99 C The rate of 24.99 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2005-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2005-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-08 Sampled and proofread 2006-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2006-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The Complaynte of a louers lyfe

depiction of two people and tree

IN maye whan flora the fresshe lusty quene The soyle hath clad in grene rede & whyght And phebus gan to shede his stremes shene Amyd the bole with all the bemes bryght And lucyfer to chace awaye the nyght Ayenst the morowe our oryson hath take To byd out of her slepe awake And hertes heuy for to reconforte From sluggerdy and heuy nyghtes sorowe Nature bad them ryse and dysporte Agaynst the glad gray morowe And hope also with saynt Iohan to borowe Bad in dyspyte of daunger and dyspayre For to take the holsome lusty ayre And with a syghe I gan for to abrayde Out of my stombre and sodeynly out sterte As he alas that nyghe for sorowe dyde My sykenesse sate aye so nyghe myne herte But for to fynde socoure smerte Or at the leest some release of payne That me full sore helde in euery vayne I rose me vp and thought I wyll anone Unto the wood to here the byrdes synge Whan that the mysty vapoure was agone And clere and fayre was the mornynge The dewe also lyenge lyke syluer in shynynge Upon the leues as ony bawme swete Tyll fyry tytan with his persaunt hete Had dryed vp the lusty lycoure newe Upon the herbes in euery grene mede And that the floures of many dyuers hewe Upon theyr stalkes gan for to sprede And for to splaye out theyr leues on brede Ayenst the sonne golde borned in his spere That downe to them caste his bemes clere And by a ryuer forth I gan costey Of water clere as berell or crystall Tyll at the last I founde a lytell way Towarde a parke enclosed with a wall In compas rounde and by a gate small Who so wolde frely myght gone In to this parke walled with grene stone And in I wente to here the byrdes songe Whiche on the braunches bothe in playne & vale So loude songe that all the worlde ronge Lyke as it sholde shyuer in peces smale And as me thought that the nyghtyngale With so grete myght her voyce gan out wrest Ryght as her hette for loue wolde brest The soyle was playne smothe & wonder softe . All ouer spredde with tapetis that nature Had made herselfe couloured eke alofte With bowes grene the floures for to cure That in her beaute they may not longe endure Fro all assaute of phebus feruent fere Whiche in his spere so hote is and so clere The ayre attempre and the smothe wynde Of zephyrus amonge the blossomes whyte So holsome was and so nourysshynge by kynde That smale buddes and rounde blomes lyte In maner gan of her brethe delyte To gyue vs hope the eyre fruyte shall take Ayenst automme redy for to shake I sawe there daphene closed vnder rynde Grene laurere and the holsome pyne The myrre also that wepeth euer of kynde The cedrys hyghe as vpryght as a lyne The phylberde eke that lowe doeth enclyne Her bowes grene to the erthe downe Unto her knyght I called demophowne There sawe I eke the fresshe hawthorne In whyte moteley that so swete doeth smell Asshe / fyrre / and oke / with many a yonge acorne And many a tre mo than I can tell And me before I sawe a lytell well That had his course as I can beholde Under an hyll with quycke stremes colde The grauell golde the water pure as glasse The bankes rounde the well enuyronnynge And softe as veluet the yonge grasse That therupon lustely gan sprynge The sute of trees aboute compassynge Theyr shadowe caste closynge the well rounde And all the herbes growynge on the grounde The water was so holsome and so vertuus Thrughe myght of herbes growynge besyde That lyke the well where as nareyus Slayne was thrughe vengeaunce of cupyde Where so couertely he dyde hyde The grennes of dethe vpon eche brynke That dethe myght folowe who that euer drynke Ne lyke the pytte of the pegate Under pernase where poetes slepte Nor lyke the well of chastyte Whiche dyane with her uymphes kepte Whan she naked in to the water lepte That slewe Acteon with his handes fell Onely for he came so nyghe the well But this well that I here reherse So holsome was that it wolde aswage Swollen hertes and the venym perysshe Of pensy shede with all the cruell rage And euermore refresshe the vysage Of them that were in ony weryuesse Of grete laboure or fallen in dystresse And I that had thrughe daunger and dysdayne So drye a thyrste thought I wolde assaye To taste a draught of this well or twayne My bytter langoure yf it myght alaye And on the banke anone downe I laye And with myne heed in to the well I raught And of the water I dranke a good draught Wherof me thought I was refresshed wele Of the brennynge that sate so nyghe my herte That veryly anone I gan to fele An huge parte released of my smarte And therwithall anone vp I sterte And thought I wolde walke and se more yet forth in the Parke and in the holtes hore And thrughe a launde as I yede apace A louers lyfe . I gan aboute faste to beholde I founde anone a delectable place That was beset with trees yonge and olde Whose names here for me shall not be tolde Amyd of whiche stode an herber grene That benched was with turues newe and clene This herber was full of floures rynde In to the whiche as I beholde gan Bytwene an Ulfre and a woodbynde As I was ware I sawe where laye a man In blacke and whyte coulre pale and wan And wonder deely also his hewe Of hurtes grene and fresshe woundes newe And euermore destreyned with sykenesse Besyde as this he was greuosly For vpon hym he had a hote accesse That daye by daye hym shoke full pyteously So that for constreynynge of his malady And hertely wo thus lyenge all alone It was a dethe for to se hym grone Wherof astonyed my fote I gan withdrawe Gretely wonderynge what it myght be That he so laye and had no felawe Ne that I coude no wyght with hym se Wherof I had truth and eke pyte I gan anone so softely as I coude Amonge the busshes me preuely to shroude yf that I myght in ony wyse espye What was the cause of his deedly wo Or why that he so pyteously gan crye On his fortune and on his feuer also With all my myght I layde myne ere to Euery worde to marke what he sayde Out of his swowne amonge as he brayde But fyrst yf I shall make mencyon Of his persone and playnly hym dyscryue He was in sothe without ony excepcyon To speke of manhode one of the best alyue There maye no man agaynst trouth stryue For of his tyme and of his age also He proued was there men sholde haue ado For one of the best there of brede and length So well made by good proporcyon yf he had be in his delyuer strength But thought and sykenesse were occasyon That he thus laye in lamentacyon Grouelynge on the grouude in place desolate Sole by hymselfe awaked and mate And for me semeth that it is fyttynge His wordes all to put in remembraunce To me that herde all his complaynynge And all the grounde of his wofull chaunce yf there withall I may do pleasaunce I wyll to you so as I can anone Lyke as he sayd reherse euerychone But who shall helpe me nowe to complayne Or who shall nowe my style guyde or lede Of Niobe lette nowe the teres rayne In to my penne and eke helpe in this nede Thou wofull myrre that felest my herte blede Of pyteous we and my honde eke quake Whan that I wryte for this mannes sake For vnto wo accordeth complaynynge And dolefull chere vnto heuynesse To sorowe also syghynge and wepynge And pyteous mournynge vnto drerynesse And who that shall wryte of dystresse In partye nedeth to knowe felyngely Cause and rote of all suche malady But I alas that am of wytte but dull And haue no knowynge of suche matere For to dyscryue and wryte at the full The wofull complaynte whiche that ye shall here But euen lyke as doeth a skryuenere That can no more what that he shall wryte But as his mayster besyde doeth endyte Ryght so fare I that of no sentemente Saye ryght nought as in conclusyowne But as I herde whan I was presente This man complayned with a pyteous sowne For euen lyke without addycyowne Or dysencrease eyther more or lesse For to reherse anone I wyll me dresse And yf that ony nowe be in this place That fele in loue brennynge or feruence Or hyndred were to his ladyes grace With false tongues that with pestylence Sle true men that neuer dyd offence In worde ne dede ne in theyr entente Yf ony suche be here now presente Let hym of reuth laye to audyence With dolefull chere and sobre countenaunce To here this man by full sentence His mortall wo and his perturbaunce Complaynynge nowe lyenge in a traunce With loke vp cast and rewfull chere The fytte of whiche was as ye shall here The thought oppressed with inwarde syghes sore The paynfull lyfe the body languysshynge The wofull goost the herte rente and and tore The pyteous chere pale in complaynynge The deedly face lyke asshes in shynynge The salteteeres that fro myne eyen shall Percell declare grounde of my paynes all Whose herte is grounde to blede on heuynesse The thought receyte of wo and of complaynte The brest is chest of dole and drerynesse The body eke so feble and so feynte With hote and colde myne acces is so meynte That nowe I shyuer for defaute of hete And hote as glede nowe sodeynly I swete Nowe hote as fyre nowe colde as asshes dede Nowe hote for colde for hete agayne Nowe colde as yse nowe as coles rede For hete I brenne and thus bytwene twayne I passed am and all forcast in payne So that my colde playnly as I fele Of greuous colde is cause euerydele This is the colde of inwarde hyghe dysdeyne Colde of dyspyte and colde of cruell hate This is the colde that euer doeth busy payne Ayenst trouth to fyght and make debate This is the colde that wolde the fyre abate Of true menynge alas the harde whyle This is the colde that wyll me begyle For euer the better the trouth I mente With all my myght faythfully to serue With herte and all to be dylygente The lesse thanke alas I gan deserue Thus for my trouthe daunger doeth me sterue For one that sholde my dethe of mercy let Hath made dyspyte nowe his swerde to whet Ayenst me and his arowes to fyle To take vengeaunce of wylfull cruelte And tongues false thrughe theyr slyghty whyl Hath begon a warre that wyll not stynted be And false enuy of wrath and eunyte Haue conspyred ayenste all rygh and lawe Of theyr malyce that trouth shall be slawe And malebousche gan fyrst the tale tell To sclaunder trouthe of indygnacyon And false reporte so loude range the bell That mysbeleue and false suspeccyon Haue trouth brought to his dampcyon So that alas wrongefully he dyeth And falsnes his place occupyeth And entred is in to trouthes loude And hath therof the full possessyon O ryghtfull god that fyrst the trouth founde How may thou suffre suche oppressyon That falshede haue iurysdyccyon In trouthes ryght to sle hym gylteles In his fraunchyse he may not lyue in pes Falsly accused and of his fone foriuged Without answere whyle he was absente He dampned was and may not be excused For cruelte sate in iugemente Of hastynes without aduysemente And bad dysdayne do execute anone His Jugemente in presence of his fone Attourney none ne may admytted bene To excuse trouthe a worde to speke To fayth or othe the iuge lust not to sene There is no gayne but he wyll be wreke O lorde of trouth to the I call and clepe How may thou se this in thy presence Without mercy murdred innocence Now god that arte of trouth souerayne And seest how I lye for trouthe bounde So sore I knytte in loues fyry chayne Euen at the deth thrughe gyrte with many a wound ▪ That lykely am neuer for to sounde And for my trouthe am dampned to the dethe And nought abyde but drawe alonge the breth . Consyder and se in thyne eternall syght How that my herte professed whylom was For to be true with all my full myght Onely to one the whiche now alas Of volunte without more trespas Myne accusers hath taken vnto grace And cherysshed hym my deth for to purchace What meneth this what is this wonder ●re Of purueyaunce yf I shall it call Of god of loue that false hym so assure And trewe alas adowne of the whele befall And yet in sothe this is the 〈…〉 she of all That falshede wrongefully of trouth hath the name And trouth ayenward us falshede bereth the blame This blynde chaunce this stormy aduenture In loue hathe his moost experyence For who that dothe with trouth moost his cure Shall for his mede fynde moost offence That serueth loue with all his dylygence For who can feyne vnder louelyhede Ne fayleth not to fynde grace and spede For I loued one full longe syth agone With all my herte body and full myght And to be deed my herte can not gone Frome his hest but holde that he hath hyght Thoughe I be banysshed out of her syght And by her mouthe dampned that I shall dye Unto my behest yet euer obey wyll I For euer syth that the worlde began Who so lyst to loke and in story rede He shall aye fynde that the true man Was put abacke where as the falshede Furthered was for loue taketh none hede To sle the true and hath of hym no charge Where as the false goeth frely at theyr large I take recorde of Palamydes The true man the noble worthy knyght That euer loued and of his payne no ●eles Not withstandynge his manhode and his myght None vnto hym dyde full grete vnryght For aye the better he dyde in cheualrye The more he was hyndred by enuye And aye the better he dyde in euery place Thrughe his hye knyghthode and busy payne The ferther was he fro his ladyes grace For to her mercy myght he neuer attayne And to his dethe he coude it not refrayne For to daunger but aye obey and serue As he best coude playnly tyll he sterue What was the fyne also of Hercules For all his conquest and worthynes That was of strengthe alone pereles For lyke as bokes lyste of hym expresse He set pyllers thrughe his hye prowesse Alwaye at gades for to sygnyfye That no man myght hym passe in cheualrye The whiche pyles ben ferre be yonde ynde Be set of golde for a rembraunce And for all that was he set behynde With them that loue lust febly to auaunce For hym set last vpon a daunce Ayenst whome helpe may not stryfe For all his trouthe he lost his lyfe Phebus also for all his persaunte lyght Whan that he wente here in erthe lowe Unto the erthe with venus syght I wounded was thrughe cupydes bowe And yet his lady lyst hym not to knowe Thoughe for her loue his herte dyde blede She lete hym go and toke of hym none hede What shall I saye of yonge Pryamus Of true Trystram for all his hyghe renowne Of achylles or of antonyus Of arcyte of hym palamowne What was the ende of theyr passyowne But after sorowe dethe and than theyr graue Lo here the guardon that louers haue But false Jason with his doublenesse That was vntrue at colcos to mede And Terens rote of vnkyndnesse And with these two eke the false Ene Lo thus the false aye in one degre Had in loue theyr lust and all theyr wyll And saue falshede theyr was none other skyll Of thebes eke the false arcyte And demophon eke for his slouth They had theyr lust and all that myght delyte For all theyr falshede and grete vntruth Thus ener loue alas and that is ruth His false legis furthereth what he may And sleeth the true vngoodly day by daye For true Adone was slayne with the bore Amyd the forest in the grene shadowe For venus loue he felte all the sore But vulcanus with her no mercy made The foule chorle and many nyghtes gladi Where mars her knyght and her man To fynde mercy conforte none he can Also the yonge fresshe Ipomones So lusty fre and of his courage That for to serue with all his herte he chese Athalans so fayre of her vysage But loue alas quyt hym so his wage With cruell daunger playnly at the last That with the dethe guardonles he past Lo here the fyne of louers seruyse Lo how loue can his seruauntes quyte Lo how he can his faythfull men dyspyse To slee the true man and false to respyte Lo how he doeth the swerde of sorowe byte In hertes suche as must his lust obey To saue the false and do the true to dey For faythe nor othe worde ne assuraunce True menynge awayte or bulynesse Styll porte ne faythfull attendaunce Manhode ne myght in armes worthynesse Pursuyte of worshyp nor hyghe prowesse In strange londe rydynge ne trauayll Full lytell or noght in loue doeth auayle Peryll of dethe neyther in see nor londe Hunger ne thrust sorowe ne sykenesse Ne grete empryses for to take on honde Shedynge of blode ne manfull hardynesse Nor ofte woundynge at sawtes by dystresse Nor in partynge of lyfe and dethe also All is for nought loue taketh no hede therto But lesynges with her false flaterye Thrughe her falshede and with her doublenesse With tales newe and many feyned lye By false semblaunce and counterfet humblesse Under coloure depeynte with stedfastnesse With fraude couered vnder a pyteous face Accepte ben now rathest vnto grace And can themselfe now magnyfye With feyned porte and presumpcyon They chaunge her cause with false surquedrye Under menynge of double entencyon To thynke one in theyr opynyon And say another to set themselfe alofte And hynder trouthe as it is sene full ofte The whiche thynge I bye nowe all to dere Thanked be venus and the god cupyde As it is sene by myne oppressed chere And by his arowes that stycken in my syde Saue only the dethe I nothynge abyde Fro daye to daye alas the harde whyle Whan euer his darte that hym lyst to fyle My wofull herte for to ryue a two For faute of mercy and lacke of pyte Of her that causeth all my payne and wo And lust not ones of grace for to se Unto my trouthe thrughe her cruelte And moost of all I me complayne That she hathe Joye to laughe at my payne And wylfully hathe my dethe sworne All gyltles and wote no cause why Saufe for the 〈…〉 that I haue afore To her alone to serue faythfully O god of loue 〈◊〉 the I crye And to thy blynde double deyte Of this grete wronge I complayne me And to thy stormy wylfull varyaunce Ymeynte with chaunge and grete vnstablenesse Now vp now downe so rennynge 〈◊〉 thy chaunce That the to truste may be no sykenesse I wyte it nothynge but thy doubtinesse And who that is an archer and is blynde Marketh nothynge but shoteth by wenynge And for that he hath no dyscrecyon Without aduyse he letteth his arowe go For lacke of syght and also of reason In his shotynge it happeth ofte so To hurte his frende rather than his fo So doeth this god with his sharpe 〈…〉 one The true sleeth and letteth the fals gone And of his woundynge this is the worst of all Whan he hurteth he doeth so cruell wreche And maketh the seke for to crye and call Unto his foo for to be his leche And harde it is for a man to seche Upon the poynte of dethe in Ieoperdye Unto his foo to fynde remedye Thus fareth it now euen by me That to my foo that gaue my herte a wounde Must aske grace mercy and pyte And namely there none may be founde For now my sore my leche wyll confounde And god of kynde so hath see my life My lyues foo to haue my wound to cure Alas the whyle now that I was borne Or that I euer sawe the bryght sonne For nowe I se that full longe aforne Or I was borne my desteny was spenne nne By percas susten to sle me yf they conne For they my deth shapen ere my sherte Onely for 〈◊〉 I may it not after●e The myghty goddes also of nature That vnder god hath the gouernaunce Of worldely thynges commytted to her cure Dysposed hath thrughe her purueyaunce To gyue my lady so moche 〈…〉 ysaunce Of all vertues and therwithall puruyde To murdre trouth hath taken daunger to guyde yf for bounte beaute shape and semelyhede Prudence wytte passyngely fayrnesse Benygne porte gladde chere with lowlyhede Of womanhede ryght plenteous & largesse Nature in her fully dyde empresse whan she her wrought and all theyr last dysdayne To hynder trouth she made her chaumberlayne Whan mystrust also and false suspeccyon With mys●yleue she made for to be Chefe of counseyll to this conclusyon For to exyle trouth and eke pyte But of her courte to make mercy fle So that dyspyte now holleth forthe her reyne Thrughe hasty beleue of tales that men feyne And thus I am for my trouthe alas Murdred and slayne with wordes sharpe & kene Gylteles god wote of all trespas And lye and blede vpon this colde grene Now mercy swete mercy my lyues quene And to your grace of mercy yet I prey In your seruyce that your man may dey But and so be that I shall dye algate And that I shall none other mercy haue Yet of my dethe let this be the date , That by your wyll I was brought to my graue Or hastely yf that yelyste me saue My sharpe woundes that ake so and blede Of mercy charyte and also of womanhede For other maner playnly is there none But onely mercy to helpe in this case For thoughe my wounde blede euer in one My lyfe my dethe stondeth in your grace And thoughe my gylte be nothynge alas I aske mercy in all my best entente Redy to dye yf that ye assente For there agaynst shall I neuer stryue In worde ne werke playnly I ne may For leuer I haue than to be alyue To dye sothely and it be to her pay ye thoughe it be this eche same daye Or whan that euer her lyst to deuyse Suffyseth me to dye in your seruyse And god that knowest the thought of euery wyght Ryght as it is in euery thynge thou mayst se Yet or I dye with all my full myght Lowly I praye to graunte vnto me That ye goodly fayre fresshe and fre Whiche sle me onely for defaute of ruthe Or that I dye may knowe my truthe For that in sothe suffyseth me And she it knowe in euery cyrcumstaunce And after I am well apayed that she Yf that her lust of dethe to do vengeaunce Unto me that am vnder her legeaunce It sytte me not her dome to dysobeye But at her lust wyfully to deye Without grutchynge or rebellyon In wyll or worde hotely I assente Or ony maner contradyccyon Fully to be at her commaundemente And yf I dye in my testamente My herte I sende and my spyryte also What someuer she lust with them to do And alder last to her womanhede And to her mercy me I recommaunde That lye nowe here bytwene hope and drede Abydynge playnly what shelyst commaunde For vtterly this is no demaunde Welcome to me whyle me lasteth breth Ryght at her choyle whether it be lyfe or dethe In this matere more what myght I sayne Syth in her honde and in her wyll is all Bothe lyfe and dethe my Joye and all my payne And fynally my herte holde I shall Tyll by my spyryte by destenye fatall Whan that her lust fro my body wende Haue here my trouthe and thus I make an ende .
Nota perseuerantiam . Amantis . And with that worde he can syghe as sore Lyke as his herte wolde ryue a twayne And helde his peas & spake not a worde more But for to se his wo and mortall payne The teeres gan fro myne eyen rayne Full pyteously for very inwarde ruthe That I hym sawe so languysshe for his truthe And all this whyle my selfe I kepte close Amonge the bowes and my selfe gan hyde Tyll at the last the wofull man arose And to a lodge wente there besyde Where all the maye his custome was to abyde Sole to complayne of his paynes kene Fro yere to yere vnder the bowes grene And for bycause that it drewe to the nyght And that the sonne his arke dyurnall Passed was so that his persaunt lyght His bryght bemes and his stremes all Were in the wawas of the water fall Under the bordure of our occyan His chare of golde his course so swyftely ran And whyle the twylyght and rewes rede Of phebus lyght were dyaurate a lyte A penne I toke and gan me fast spede The wofull playnte of this man to wryte Worde by worde as he dyde endyte Lyke as I herde and coude hym the reporte I haue here set your hertes to dysporte yf ought be amysse laye the faute in me For I am worthy for to bere the blame yf ony thynge amysse reported be To make this dytte for to feyue lame Thrugh myne vnkunnynge but for to seyne the same Lyke as this man his complaynte dyd expresse I axe mercy and forgyuenesse And as I wrote me thought I sawe a ferre Ferre in the west lustely appere Esperus the goodly bryght sterre So gladde so fayre so persaunt eke of chere I mene venus with her bemes clere That heuy hertes onely to releue Is wonte of custome for to shewe at eue And I as fast fell downe on my kne And euen thus to her I gan to prey O lady venus so fayre vpon to se Let not this man for his trouthe dey For that Joye thou haddest whan thou laye With mars thy knyght whom vulcanus founde And with a reyne vnuysybly you bounde Togyder bothe two in the same whyle That all the courte aboute celestyall At your shame gan laughe and smyle O fayre lady well wyllynge founde at all Conforte to carefull o goddesse immortall Be helpynge nowe and do thy dylygence To lette the stremes of thyne influence Dessende downe in furtherynge of the trouthe Namely of them that lye in sorowe bounde Shewe now thy myght & on theyr wo haue ruthe Theyr false daunger sle them and confounde And specyally let thy myght be founde For to socoure what so that thou may The true man that in the herber laye And all true forther for his sake O glad sterre o lady venus myne And cause his lady hym to grace take Her herte of stele to mercy so enclyne Or that thy bemes go vp to declyne And or that thou now go fro vs adowne For that loue thou haddest to downe And whan she was gone to her rest I rose anone and home to bed wente For very wery me thought it for the best Praynge thus in all my best entente That all true louers that be with daunger shente With mercy maye in releas of her payne Recured be or maye come efte agayne And for that I may no lenger wake Farewell ye louers all that be true Prayenge to god and thus my lyue I take That or the sonne tomorowe be rysen newe And or he haue agayne his rosen hewe That eche of you maye haue suche a grace His owne lady in armes to enbrace I mene thus that in all honeste Without more ye maye togyder speke What so you lyst at good lyberte That ce●● may to other theyr herte breke On Jelousy onely to be wreke That hathe so longe of malyce and enuy Warred trouth with his tyranny
Lenuoy . Pryncesse pleafeth it your benygnyte This lytell dytte to haue in mynde Of woman hede also for to se your true man may mercy fynde And pyte eke that longe hathe ben behynde Let agayne be prouoked to grace For by my trouthe it is agaynste kynde False daunger to occupy his place
Lenuoy du quayer Golytell quayre go vnto my lyues quene And my very hertes souerayne And be ryght glad for she shall the sene Suche is thy grace but I alas in payne Am lefte behynde but not to whome to complayne For mercy trouthe grace and eke pyte Exyled be / that I may not attayne Recure to fynde of myne aduersyte
Finis .

Imprynted at London in the Flete strete at the sygne of the Sonne by Wynkynde worde .