That thou this famous treasure might win,
And bring it my region within,

It were to me great pleasaunce and honour,
Than were I hold to quite thy labour,
And all thy costes I woll my selfe make,
And chose what folke thou wolt with thee take,
Let see now, darste thou taken this voyage?"
Jason was yonge, and lustie of corage,
And undertooke to done this ilke emprise ;
Anon, Argus his ships gan devise.

With Jason went the strong Hercules,
And many another, that he with him ches,
But who so asketh who is with him gon,
Let him rede Argonauticon,
For he woll tell a tale long ynough.
Philoctetes anon the saile up drough,
Whan the wind was good, and gan him hie
Out of his countrey, called Thessalie.
So long they sayled in the salt see,
Till in the isle of Lemnon arrived hee,
All be this nat rehearsed of Guido,
Yet saieth Ovide in his Epistles so,
And of this isle lady was and quene,
The faire yong Hipsiphile the shene,
That whilom Thoas doughter was, the king.
Hipsiphile was gone in her playing,
And, roming on the clevis by the see,
Under a banke, anone, espied she
Where lay the ship that Jason gan arrive:
Of her goodnesse adoune she sendeth blive,
To weten if that any straunge wight
With tempest thider were yblow anight,
To done him succour, as was her usaunce,
To furtheren every wight, and done pleasaunce
Of very bountie and of courtesie.

This messenger adoune him gan to hie,
And found Jason and Hercules also,
That in a cogge to lond were ygo,
Hem to refreshen and to take the aire.
The morning attempre was and faire,
And in hir way this messenger hem mette;
Full cunningly these lordes two he grette,
And did his message, asking hem anon,
If that they were broken, or aught wo begon,
Or had need of lodesmen, or vitaile,
For socoure they shoulde nothing faile,
For it was utterly the queenes will.

Jason answerde meekely and still :
"My lady," quod he, " thanke I hertely
Of her goodnesse; us needeth truly
Nothing as now, but that we weary be,
And come for to play out of the see,
Till that the wind be better in our way."
This lady rometh by the cliffe to play
With her meinie, endlong the strond,
And findeth this Jason and this other stond
In speaking of this thing, as I you told.

This Hercules and Jason gan behold
Howe that the queene it was, and faire her grete,
Anone, right as they with this lady mete,
And she tooke heed, and knew by hir manere,
By hir array, by wordes, and by chere,
That it were gentyl men of great degree,
And to the castle with her leadeth she

These straunge folk, and doth hem great honour,
And asketh hem of travaile and of labour
That they have suffred in the salte see,
So that within a day, two or three,

She knew by the folke that in his shippes be,
That it was Jason, full of renomee,

And Hercules, that had the great loos,
That soughten the aventures of Colcos,
And did hem honour more than before,
And with hem dealed ever longer the more,
For they hen worthy folke, withouten lees,
And namely most she spake with Hercules,
To him her herte bare, he shoulde be
Sadde, wise, and true, of words avisee,
Withouten any other affection
Of love, or any other imagination.

This Hercules hath this Jason praised,
That to the Sunne he hath it up raised,
That halfe so true a man there n'as of love
Under the cope of Heaven that is above,
And he was wise, hardie, secrete, and riche,
Of these three points there nas none him liche,
Of freedome passed he, and lustyhead,
All tho that liven, or ben dead;
Thereto, so great a gentyl man was he,
And of Thessalye likely king to be,
Ther n'as no lacke, but that he was agast
To love, and for to speake shamefast,
Him had lever himselfe to murder and die,
Than that men should a lover him espie,
As would God that I had iyeve

My blood and flesh, so that I might live
With the bones, that he had aught where a wife
For his estate, for such a lustie life
She shoulden lede with this lustie knight.
And all this was compassed on the night
Betwixe him Jason, and this Hercules,
Of these two here was a shreud lees,
To come to house upon an innocent,
For to bedote this queene was hir entent:
And Jason is as coy as is a maid,
He looketh pitously, but naught he sayd,
But freely yave he to her counsailers
Yeftes great, and to her officers,

As woulde God that I leyser had and time,
By processe all his wrong for to rime:
But in this house, if any false lover be,
Right as himselfe now doth, right so did he,
With faining, and with every subtill dede,
Ye get no more of me, but ye woll rede
Th'original, that telleth all the caas,

The sooth is this, that Jason wedded was
Unto this queene, and tooke of her substaunce
What so him list unto his purveyaunce,
And upon her begate children two,
And drough his saile, and saw her never mo:
A letter sent she him certaine,

Which were too long to writen and to saine,
And him reproveth of his great untrouth,
And praieth him on her to have some routh,
And on his children two, she sayd him this,
That they be like of all thing ywis
To Jason, save they couth nat beguile,
And prayd God, or it were long while,
That she that had his herte yreft her fro,
Must finden him untrue also:

And that she must both her children spill,
And all tho that suffreth him his will:
And true to Jason was she all her life,
And ever kept her chast, as for his wife,
Ne never had she joy at her hart,
But died for his love of sorrowes smart.
To Colcos come is this duke Jason,
That is of love devourer and dragon,
As matire appeteth forme alway,
And from forme to forme it passen may,

Or as a well that were bottomles,
Right so can Jason have no pees,
For to desiren through his appetite
To done with gentyl women his delite;
This is his lust, and his felicitie.
Jason is romed forth to the citie,
That whylome cleped was Jasonicos,
That was the master toune of all Coleos,
And hath ytold the cause of his comming
Unto Otes, of that countrey king,
Praying him that he must done his assay
To get the fleese of gold, if that he may;
Of which the king assenteth to his boone,
And doth him honour, as it is doone,
So ferforth that his doughter and his heire,
Medea, which that was so wise and faire,
That fairer saw there never man with eie,
He made her done to Jason companie
At meat, and sitte by him in the hall.

Now was Jason a seemely man withall,
And like a lord, and had a great renoun,
And of his looke as royall as a lioun,
And godly of his speech, and famillere,
And coud of love all the craft and art plenere
Withouten booke, with everiche observaunce,
And as fortune her ought a foule mischaunce,
She woxe enamoured upon this man.

"Jason," quod she, "for ought I see or can,
As of this thing, the which ye ben about,
Ye and your selfe ye put in much dout,
For who so woll this aventure atcheve
He may nat wele asterten, as I leve,
Withouten death, but I his helpe be,
But nathelesse, it is my will," quod she,
"To forthren you, so that ye shall nat die,
But turnen sound home to your Thessalie."
"My right lady," quod this Jason, “tho
That ye have of my death or my wo
Any regard, and done me this honour,
I wot well that my might, ne my labour,
May nat deserve it my lives day,

God thanke you, there I ne can ne may,
Your man am I, and lowly you beseech
To ben my helpe, withouten more speech,
But certes, for my death shall I not spare."
Tho gan this Medea to him declare
The perill of this case, fro point to point
Of his batayle, and in what disjoint
He mote stonde, of which no creature,
Save only she, ne might his life assure:
And shortely, right to the point for to go,
They ben accorded fully betwixe hem two,
That Jason shall her wedde, as trewe knight,
And terme yset to come soone at night
Unto her chambre, and make there his othe
Upon the goddes, that he for lefe or lothe
Ne shulde her never falsen, night ne day,
To ben her husband whyle he live may,
As she that from his deth him saved here,
And here upon at night they mete yfere,
And doth his othe, and gothe with her to bedde,
And on the morow upward he him spedde,
For she hath taught him how he shall nat faile
The flees to winne, and stinten his bataile,
And saved him his life and his honour,
And gate him a name as a conquerour,
Right through the sleight of her enchantment.
Now hath Jason the fleese, and home is went
With Medea, and treasours fell great wonne,
But unwist of her father she is gonne

To Thessalie, with duke Jason her lefe,
That afterward hath broght her to mischeife,
For as a traytour he is from her go,
And with her left yonge children two,
And falsely hath betraied her, alas!
And ever in love a chefe traytour he was,
And wedded yet the thirde wife anon,
That was the doughter of king Creon

This is the meede of loving, and guerdon
That Medea received of duke Jason
Right for her trouth, and for her kindnesse,
That loved him better than her selfe I gesse,
And left her father, and her heritage,
And of Jason this is the vassalage,
That in his dayes nas never none yfound
So false a lover going on the ground,
And therfore in her letter thus she said,
First whan she of his falsenesse him upbraid:
Why liked thee my yellow haire to see,
More than the boundes of mine honestie ?
Why liked me thy youth and thy fairenesse,
And of thy tong the infinite graciousnesse ?
O haddest thou in thy conquest dead ybe,
Ful mikel untrouth had there died with thee."
Well can Ovide her letter in verse endite,
Which were, as now, too long for to write.

66

THE LEGEND OF LUCRECE OF ROME.

Now mote I saine th'exiling of kings
Of Rome, for hir horrible doings
Of the last kinge Tarquinius,

As saith Ovid, and Titus Livius,

But for that cause tell I nat this storie,
But for to praysen, and drawen in memorie
The very wife, the very Lucresse,

That for her wifehood, and her stedfastnesse,
Nat only that these paynims her commend,
But that cleped is in our legend

The great Austyn, that hath compassioun
Of this Lucrece, that starfe in Rome toun,
And in what wise I woll but shortly treat,
And of this thing I touch but the great.
When Ardea besieged was about
With Romanes, that full sterne were and stout,
Full long lay the siege, and little wroughten,
So that they were halfe idle, as hem thoughten,
And in his play Tarquinius the yonge,
Gan for to yape, for he was light of tonge,
And said, that "it was an idle life,
No man did there no more than his wife,
And let us speke of wives that is best,
Praise every man his owne as him lest,
And with our speech let us ease our herte."
A knight (that hight Colatin) up stert,
And sayd thus, "Nay, sir, it is no nede
To trowen on the word, but on the dede:
I have a wife," quod he, "that as I trow
Is holden good of all that ever her know;
Go we to Rome to night, and we shull see."
Tarquinius answerde, "That liketh mee."
To Rome they be comen, and fast hem dight
To Colatins house, and downe they light,
Tarquinius, and eke this Colatine;
The husbond knew the efters well and fine,
And full prively into the house they gone,
Nor at the gate porter was there none,

And at the chamber dore they abide :
This noble wife sate by her beds side
Discheveled, for no mallice she ne thought,
And soft wooll, sayth Livie, that she wrought,
To kepe her from slouth and idlenesse,
And bad her servaunts done hir businesse,
And asketh hem, "What tidings heren ye?
How sayth men of the siege, how shall it be?
God would the wals were fallen adoun,
Mine husbond is too long out of this toun,
For which drede doth me sore to smert,
Right as a sword it stingeth to mine herte,
Whan I thinke on this or of that place,
God save my lord, I pray him for his grace:
And therwithall so tenderly she gan weepe,
And of her werke she tooke no more keepe,
But meekely she let her eyen fall,
And thilke semblant sate her well withall,
And eke her teares full of heavinesse,
Embelessed her wifely chastnesse.

Her countenaunce is to her herte digne,
For they acordeden in deed and signe,
And with that word her husbond, Colatin,
Or she of him was ware, came stertling in,
And said, "Drede thee nat, for I am here;"
And she anone up rose, with blisfull chere,
And kissed him, as of wives is the wonne.

Tarquinius, this proud kings sonne,
Conceived hath her beautie and her chere,
Her yellow haire, her bountie, and her manere,
Her hew, her words, that she hath complained,
And by no craft her beautie was nat fained,
And caught to this lady such desire,
That in his herte he brent as any fire,
So woodly that his wit was all forgotten,
For well thought he she should nat be gotten,
And aye the more he was in dispaire,
The more coveiteth, and thought her faire ;
His blind lust was all his coveiting.
On morrow, whan the bird began to sing,
Unto the siege he commeth full prively,
And by himselfe he walketh soberly,
The image of her recording alway new,
Thus lay her hair, and thus fresh was her hew,
Thus sate, thus span, this was her chere,
Thus fair she was, and this was her manere:
All this conceit his herte hath new ytake,
And as the see with tempest all to shake,
That after whan the storme is all ago,
Yet woll the water quappe a day or two,
Right so, though that her forme were absent,
The pleasaunce of her forme was present,
But nathelesse, nat pleasaunce, but delite,
Or an unrightfull talent with dispite :
"For, maugre her, she shall my lemman be;
Hap helpeth hardy man alway," quod he,
"What end that I make, it shall be so,"
And girt him with his sword, and gan to go,
And he forthright, till to Rome he come,
And all alone his way that he hath nome
Unto the house of Colatin full right;
Doun was the Sunne, and day hath lost his light,
And in he come unto a privie halke,
And in the night full theefely gan he stalke,
Whan every wight was to his rest brought,
Ne no wight had of treason such a thought,
Whether by window, or by other gin,
With swerd ydraw, shortly he commeth in
There as she lay, this noble wife Lucresse,
And as she woke, her bedde she felt presse:

"What beast is that," quod she, "that wayeth
"I am the kings sonne Tarquinius,"
[thus ?"
Quod he, "but and thou crie, or any noise make,
Or if thou any creature awake,

By thilke God that formed man of live,
This swerd through thine herte shall I rive;"
And therwithall unto her throte he stert,
And set the swerd all sharpe on her herte:
No word she spake, she hath no might therto,
What shall she saine? her wit is all ago;
Right as whan a wolfe findeth a lamb alone,
To whom shall she complaine or make mone?
What, shall she fight with an hardy knight?
Well wote men a woman hath no might:
What, shall she crie, or how shall she astert,
That hath her by the throte, with swerd at herte
She asketh grace, and said all that she can.

"No wolt thou nat," quod this cruell man, "As wisely Jupiter my soule save,

I shall in thy stable slee thy knave,
And lay him in thy bed, and loud crie,
That I thee find in such avoutrie,
And thus thou shalt be dead, and also lese
Thy name, for thou shalt nat chese."
This Romans wives loveden so her name
At thilke time, and dreden so the shame,
That what for fere of slander, and drede of death
She lost both at ones wit and breath,
And in a swough she lay, and woxe so dead,
Men mighten suite off her arme or head,
She feleth nothing, neither foule ne faire.

Tarquinius, that art a kings heire,
And shouldest, as by linage and by right,
Done as a lord and a very knight,
Why hast thou done dispite to chivalrie?
Why hast thou done this lady villanie?
Alas, of thee this was a villanous dede,
But now to the purpose in the story I rede,
Whan he was gon, and this mischaunce is fall,
This lady sent after her friendes all,
Father, mother, and husbond, all yfere,
And discheveled with her haire clere,
In habite such as women used tho
Unto the burying of hir frends go,
She sate in hall, with a sorowful sight;
Her friends asken what her aylen might,
And who was dead? and she sate aye weeping,
A word for shame ne may she forth out bring,
Ne upon hem she durst nat behold,
But, at the last, of Tarquiny she hem told
This rufull case, and all this thing horrible,
The wo to tell were impossible

That she and all her friends make at ones;
All had folkes hertes ben of stones,
It might have maked hem upon her rew,
Her herte was so wifely and so trew;
She said, that for her gilt ne for her blame
Her husbond should nat have the foule name,
That would she nat suffren by no way:
And they answerde all unto her fay,
That they foryave it her, for it was right,
It was no gilt, it lay nat in her might,
And saiden her ensamples many one,
But all for naught, for thus she said anone :
"Be as be may," quod she, "of forgiving,
I will nat have no forgift for nothing;"
But prively she cought forth a knife,
And therwithall she raft her selfe her life,
And as she fell adowne she cast her looke,
And of her clothes yet heed she tooke,

For in her falling, yet she had a care
Least that her feet or such things lay bare,
So well she loved cleannesse, and eke trouth;
Of her had all the towne of Rome routh,
And Brutus hath by her chast blood swore
That Tarquin should ybanished be therfore,
And all his kinne; and let the people call,
And openly the tale he told hem all,
And openly let carry her on a bere

Through all the town, that men may see and here
The horrible deed of her oppressioun,
Ne never was there king in Rome toun
Sens thilke day, and she was holden there
A saint, and ever her day yhallowed dere,
As in hir law and thus endeth Lucresse,
The noble wife, Titus beareth witnesse :
I tell it, for she was of love so trew,
Ne in her will she chaunged for no new,
And in her stable herte, sadde and kind,
That in these women men may all day find
There as they cast hir herte, there it dwelleth,
For well I wote, that Christ himselfe telleth
That in Israel, as wide as is the lond,
That so great faith in all the lond he ne fond
As in a woman, and this is no lie,
And as for men, looke ye, such tyrannie
They doen all day, assay hem who so list,
The truest is full brotell for to trist.

THE LEGEND OF ARIADNE OF ATHENS.

JUDGE infernall, Minos, of Crete king,
Now commeth thy lot, thou commest on the ring;
Nat for thy sake only written is this storie,
But for to clepe ayen unto memorie,
Of Theseus the great untrouth of love,
For which the gods of Heaven above

Ben wroth, and wrath have take for thy sinne;
Be red for shame! now I thy life beginne.

Minos, that was the mighty king of Crete,
That had an hundred cities strong and grete,
To schoole hath sent his sonne Androgeus
To Athens, of the which it happed thus,
That he was slaine, learning phylosophie,
Right in that citie, nat but for envie.

The great Minos, of the which I speke,
His sonues death is come for to wreke,
Alcathoe he besieged hard and long,
But nathelesse, the walles be so strong,
And Nisus, that was king of that cite,
So chivalrous, that little dredeth he;
Of Minos or his host tooke he no cure,
Till on a day befell an aventure,
That Nisus doughter stood upon the wall,
And of the siege saw the manner all:
So happed it, that at scarmishing
She cast her herte upon Minos the king,
For his beautie, and his chevalrie,
So sore that she wende for to die.
And shortly of this processe for to pace,
She made Minos winnen thilke place,
So that the citie was all at his will,
To saven whom him list, or els spill;
But wickedly he quit her kindnesse,
And let her drench in sorrow and distresse,
N'ere that the gods had of her pite,

But that tale were too long as now for me.

Athenes wan this king Minos also,
As Alcathoe, and other townes mo,
And this the effect, that Minos hath so driven
Hem of Athenes, that they mote him yeven
Fro yere to yere her owne children dere
For to be slaine, as ye shall after here.

This Minos hath a monster, a wicked best,
That was so cruell, that without areest,
Whan that a man was brought into his presence,
He would him eat, there helpeth no defence:
And every third yeare, withouten dout,
They casten lotte, as it came about,
On rich and poore, he must his sonne take,
And of his childe he must present make
To Minos, to save him or to spill,

Or let his beast devour him at his will.
And this hath Minos done right in dispite,
To wreke his sonne was set all his delite,
And make hem of Athenes his thrall
Fro yere to yere, while he liven shall;
And home he saileth whan this toun is wonne.
This wicked custome is so long yronne,
Till of Athenes king Egeus

Mote senden his owne sonne Theseus,
Sens that the lotte is fallen him upon
To ben devoured, for grace is there non.
And forth is ladde this wofull yonge knight
Unto the country of king Minos full of might,
And in a prison fettred fast is he,
Till the time he should yfreten be.

Well maist thou wepe, O wofull Theseus,
That art a kings sonne, and damned thus,
Me thinketh this, that thou art depe yhold
To whom that saved thee fro cares cold,
And now if any woman helpe thee,
Well oughtest thou her servaunt for to bee,
And ben her true lover, yere by yere,
But now to come ayen to my matere.

The toure, there this Theseus is throw,
Down in the bottome derk, and wonder low,
Was joyning to the wall of a foreine
Longing unto the doughtren tweine
Of Minos, that in hir chambers grete
Dwelten above the maister strete
Of the towne, in joy and in sollas:
Not I n'at how it happed, percaas,
As Theseus complained him by night,
The kings doughter, that Ariadne hight,
And eke her suster Phedra, herden all
His complaint, as they stood on the wall
And looked upon the bright Moone,
Hem list nat to go to bed so soone:
And of his wo they had compassion
A kings sonne to be in such prison,

And ben devoured, thought hem great pite:
Than Ariadne spake to her suster free,
And said: "Phedra, lefe suster dere,
This wofull lords sonne may ye nat here,
How pitously he complaineth his kin,
And eke his poore estate that he is in,
And guiltlesse, certes, now it is routh,
And if ye woll assent, by my trouth,
He shall ben holpen, how so that we do."
Phedra answerde," Ywis me is as wo
For him as ever I was for any man,
And to his helpe the best rede I can
Is that we done the gailer prively
To come and speke with us hastely,

And done this wofull man with him to come
For if he may this monster overcome,

Than were he quit, there is none other boot,
Let us well taste him at his herte root,
That if so be that he a weapon have,
Where that he his life dare kepe or save,
Fighten with this fiend, and him defend,
For in the prison, here as he shall discend,
Ye wote well, that the beast is in a place
That is not derke, and hath roume and eke space
To welde an axe or swerde, staffe or knife,
So that me thinketh he should save his life,
If that he be a man, he shall do so:
And we shall make him balles eke also
Of wexe and towe, that whan he gapeth fast,
Into the beestes throte he shall hem cast,
To sleke his honger, and encomber his teeth,
And right anon, whan that Theseus seeth
The beest acheked, he shall on him leepe
To sleen him, or they comen more to keepe;
This weapen shal the gailer, or that tide,
Full prively within the prison hide :
And, for the house is crencled to and fro,
And hath so queint waies for to go,
For it is shapen as the mase is wrought,
Thereto have I a remedy in my thought,
That by a clewe of twine, as he hath gon
The same way he may returne anon,
Folowing alway the threde, as he hath come,
And whan this beest is overcome,
Than may he flien away out of this stede,
And eke the gailer may he with him lede,
And him avaunce at home in his countre,
Sens that so great a lordes sonne is he :
This is my rede, if that ye dare it take."

What shold I lenger sermon of it make?
The gailer cometh, and with him Theseus,
Whau these things ben accorded thus.

Downe sate Theseus upon his knee,
"The right lady of my life," quod he,
"I sorowfull man, ydamned to the deth,
Fro you, whiles that me lasteth breth,
I wol nat twinne, after this aventure,
But in your service thus I woll endure,
That as a wretch unknow I woll you serve
For evermore, till that mine herte sterve,
Forsake I woll at home mine heritage,
And, as I said, ben of your court a page,
If that ye vouchsafe that in this place
Ye graunt me to have soche a grace

That I may have nat but my meate and drinke,
And for my sustinaunce yet woll I swinke,
Right as you list, that Minos, ne no wight,
Sens that he saw me never with eyen sight,
Ne no man else shall me espie,

So slily and so well I shal me grie,
And me so wel disfigure, and so low,

That in this world there shall no man me know,
To have my life, and to have presence
Of you, that done to me this excellence;
And to my father shall I sende here
This worthy man, that is your gaylere,
And him so guerdon that he shall well be
One of the greatest men of my countre,
And if I durst saine, my lady bright,
I am a kings sonne, and eke a knight,
As wold God, if that it might be,
Ye weren in my countrey all thre,
And I with you, to beare you companie,
Than shuld ye sene if that I thereof lie;
And if that I profer you in lowe manere
To ben your page, and serven you right here,

But I you serve as lowly in that place,
I pray to Mars to yeve me suche grace
That shames death on me there mote fall,
And death and poverte to my frends all,
And that my sprite by night mote go,
After my death, and walke to and fro,
That I mote of traitour have a name,
For which my sprit mote go, to do me shame,
And if I clayme ever other degree,
But ye vouchsafe to yeve it mee,

As I have said, of shames death I dey,
And mercy, lady, I can naught else sey."

A semely knight was this Theseus to see,
And yonge, but of twenty yere and three,
But who so had ysene his countenance,
He wold have wept for routh of his penance:
For which this Ariadne in this manere,
Answerde to his profre and to his chere.

"A kings sonne, and eke a knight," quod she, "To ben my servaunt in so lowe degree, God shilde it, for the shame of women all, And lene me never soch a case befall, And sende you grace, and sleight of herte also, You to defend, and knightly to sleen your foe, And lene hereafter I may you find To me, and to my suster here, so kind, That I ne repent nat to yeve you life, Yet were it better I were your wife, Sith ye ben as gentill borne as I, And have a realme nat but fast by, Than that I suffred your gentillesse to sterve, Or that I let you as a page serve;

It is no profite, as unto your kinrede,

But what is that, that man woll nat do for dred ?
And to my suster, sith that it is so,

That she mote gone with me, if that I go,
Or els suffre death as wel as I,

That ye unto your sonne as trewly,
Done her be wedded, at your home coming,
This is the finall end of all this thing,

Ye swere it here, upon all that may be sworne?"
"Ye, lady mine," quod he, "or els to torne
Mote I be with the Minotaure or to morrow,
And haveth here of mine herte blood to borow,
If that ye woll, if I had knife or speare,
I would it letten out, and thereon sweare,
For than at erste, I wot ye would me leve,
By Mars, that is chiefe of my beleve,
So that I might liven, and nat faile
To morow for to taken my bataile,
I nolde never fro this place flie,
Till that ye should the very profe se,
For now, if that the soth I shall you say,
I have loved you full many a day,
Though ye ne wist nat, in my countre,
And aldermost desired you to see,
Of any earthly living creature,
Upon my truth I sweare and you assure,
This seven yere I have your servaunt be,
Now have I you, and also have ye me,
My dere herte, of Athenes duchesse."

This lady smileth at his stedfastnesse,
And at his hertely wordes, and at his chere,
And to her suster said in this manere:
"And sothly, suster mine," quod she,
"Now be we duchesses, both I and ye,
And sikerde to the regals of Athenes,
And both hereafter likely to be queenes,
And saved fro his death a kings sonne,
As ever of gentill women is the wonne,