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] whiche a fool she was!
And Ecquo dyed for Narcisus 735
Nolde nat love hir; and right thus
Hath many another foly don.
And for Dalida dyed Sampson,
That slow him-self with a pilere.
But ther is [noon] a-lyve here 740
Wolde for a fers make this wo! '
'Why so? ' quod he; 'hit is nat so;
Thou wost ful litel what thou menest;
I have lost more than thou wenest. '
'Lo, [sir,] how may that be? ' quod I; 745
Good sir, tel me al hoolly
In what wyse, how, why, and wherfore
That ye have thus your blisse lore. '
'Blythly,' quod he, 'com sit adoun;
I telle thee up condicioun 750
That thou hoolly, with al thy wit,
Do thyn entent to herkene hit. '
Yis, sir. ' 'Swere thy trouthe ther-to. '
Gladly. ' 'Do than holde her-to! '
'I shal right blythly, so god me save, 755
Hoolly, with al the witte I have,
Here yow, as wel as I can. '
'A goddes half!
' quod he, and began:--
Sir,' quod he, 'sith first I couthe
Have any maner wit fro youthe, 760
Or kyndely understonding
To comprehende, in any thing,
What love was, in myn owne wit,
Dredeles, I have ever yit
Be tributary, and yiven rente 765
To love hoolly with goode entente,
And through plesaunce become his thral,
With good wil, body, herte, and al.
Al this I putte in his servage,
As to my lorde, and dide homage; 770
And ful devoutly prayde him to,
He shulde besette myn herte so,
That it plesaunce to him were,
And worship to my lady dere.
'And this was longe, and many a yeer 775
Or that myn herte was set o-wher,
That I did thus, and niste why;
I trowe hit cam me kindely.
Paraunter I was therto most able
As a whyt wal or a table; 780
For hit is redy to cacche and take
Al that men wil therin make,
Wher-so men wol portreye or peynte,
Be the werkes never so queynte.
'And thilke tyme I ferde so 785
I was able to have lerned tho,
And to have coud as wel or better,
Paraunter, other art or letter.
But for love cam first in my thought,
Therfore I forgat it nought. 790
I chees love to my firste craft,
Therfor hit is with me [y]-laft.
Forwhy I took hit of so yong age,
That malice hadde my corage
Nat that tyme turned to no-thing 795
Through to mochel knowleching.
For that tyme youthe, my maistresse,
Governed me in ydelnesse;
For hit was in my firste youthe,
And tho ful litel good I couthe; 800
For al my werkes were flittinge,
And al my thoghtes varyinge;
Al were to me y-liche good,
That I knew tho; but thus hit stood.
'Hit happed that I cam on a day 805
Into a place, ther I say,
Trewly, the fayrest companye
Of ladies, that ever man with ye
Had seen togedres in oo place.
Shal I clepe hit hap other grace 810
That broghte me ther? nay, but Fortune,
That is to lyen ful comune,
The false trayteresse, pervers,
God wolde I coude clepe hir wers!
For now she worcheth me ful wo, 815
And I wol telle sone why so.
'Among thise ladies thus echoon,
Soth to seyn, I saw [ther] oon
That was lyk noon of [al] the route;
For I dar swere, withoute doute, 820
That as the someres sonne bright
Is fairer, clerer, and hath more light
Than any planete, [is] in heven,
The mone, or the sterres seven,
For al the worlde, so had she 825
Surmounted hem alle of beaute,
Of maner and of comlinesse,
Of stature and wel set gladnesse,
Of goodlihede so wel beseye--
Shortly, what shal I more seye? 830
By god, and by his halwes twelve,
It was my swete, right as hir-selve!
She had so stedfast countenaunce,
So noble port and meyntenaunce.