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Through the ring's vertuous excellence
And when he comen was, bis paramour: Thus am I rich, and have ever ynow."
Him met anon, and unto her him tooke' “Now, sir, yet a word by your licence
As that he did erst, this young revelour, Suffreth me to say, and to speake now :
Her companye he nat a deale forsooke, Is it wisedome, as that it seemeth you,
Though he cause bad, but as with the hooke Weare it on your finger continually ?"
Of her sleight, he beforne was caught and hent, “What wold'st thou meane,” quoth he, “there Right so he was deceived oft and blent. “What perill thereof might there befall ?" And as through vertue of the ring before “ Right great." quoth she, “as ye in company Of good he had abundance and plentee. Walke often, fro' your finger might it fall,
While it was with him, or he had it lore: Or plucked off been in a ragery,
Right so through vertue of the brooch had he (be, And so be lost, and that were folly :
What good him list : she thought, “How may this Take it me, let me been of it wardeine,
Some privy thing now causeth this richesse, For as my life keepe it would I certeine."
As did the ring herebefore I gesse?” This Jonathas, this innocent young man,
Wondering hereon, she praid him, and besought Giving unto her words full credence,
Besily night and day, that tell he would As youth not avised best be can :
The canse of this, but he another thought,
He meant it close for him it kept be should,
She wept aye too and too, and said, “ Alas! Was quench'd, and love's knot was unlaced. The time and houre that ever I borne was ! Men of their gifts to stint began.
“ Trust ye not on me, sir?" she said ; “ Ah !” thought he, “ for the ring I not ne beare,
“ Lever me were be slaine in this place, Faileth my love. Petch me, woman,"
By that good Lord that for us all deid, (Said he) “ my ring, anon I will it weare."
Than purpose againe you any fallace; and into chamber dresseth her;
Unto you would I be my live's space And when she therein bad been a-while,
As true, as any woman on Earth is “ Alasse !” (quoth she) “out on falshood and Unto a man, doubleth nothing of this." gile !
Small may she doe, that cannot well by heet, “The chest is broken, and the ring took out!" Though not performed be such a promesse. And when he heard her complaint and cry, This Jonathas thought her words so sweet, He was astonied sore, and made a shout,
That he was drunke of the pleasant sweetnesse And said, “ Cursed be the day that I
Of them, and of his foolish tendernesse. Thee met first, or with mine egne sy !”
Thus unto her he spake, and said tho', She wept, and showed outward cheere of wo, “ Be of good comfort, why weepest thou so v But in her heart was it nothing so.
And she thereto answered thus, sobbing: The ring was safe enough, and in her chest
Sir," quoth she, “my heavinesse and dreed It was, all that she said was leasing,
Is this: I ain a dread of the leesing As some woman other while at best
Of your brooch, as Almighty God forbeed Can lye and weepe when is her liking.
It happen so." “Now what, so God thee speed, This man saw her woe, and said, “Dearling,
Said he, “wouldest thou in this case counsaile?" Weepe no more, God's helpe is nye,”
Quoth she, “ That I keepe it might sans faile," To him unwiste how false she was and sly.
He said, “ I have a feare and dread algate,
As thou lostest my ring, now gone but late.”
“ First God. I pray,” quoth she, “ that I not cheese, My sonne," quoth she, “ what was thine intent, But that my heart as the cold frost may freeze, Thee fro' the schoole now to absent?
Or else be it brent with wild fire : What caused thee fro’ schoole hither to hye?”
Nay, surely it to keepe is my desire." “Mother, right this,” said he, “nat would I lye.
To her wordes credence he gare pleneere, « Forsooth, mother, my ring is a goe,
And the brooch tooke her, and after anone, My paramour to keepe I betooke it,
Whereas he was beforne full leefe and cheere And it is lost, for which I am full woe,
To folke, and bad good, all was gone ; Forrow fully unto mine heart it sit.”
Good and friendship him lacked, there was none, " Sonne, often have I warned thee, and yet
Woman, me fetch the brooch," quoth he, For thy profit I warpe thee, my sonne,
“ swythee Unhonest women thou hereafter shunne,
Into thy chamber for it goe; bye thee."
Her clothes hath she all to rent and tore, Lest be the losse bewaile should and weepe. And cry'd, “ Alas! the brooch away is bore, To the universitie shortly to seyne
For which I wole anon right with my knife In what he coulú, he hasted him ageine,
My selfe slay! I am weary of my life.”
This noise he heard, and blive he to her ran, This Jonathas could nothing beware,
That she did him beforne, but feith him bare,
She swore, and made thereto foreward, I trust in God, that yet us helpe he shall." But herkneth how she bore her afterward. To th' emperesse his mother this yong man Whan she saw and knew that the wrath and iro Againe himn dresseth, he went her unto;
That he to her had borne, was gone and past, And when she saw him, she to wonder gan, And all was well; she thought him eft to fire, She thought now somewhat there is misdo, In her malice aye stood she stedfast, Aod said, “I dread thy jewels two
And to enquire of him was not agast, Been lost now, percase the brooch with the ring.” In so short time how that it might be " Mother,” he said, “yea, by Heaven King." That they came thither out of her contrie. Sonne, thou wotst well no jewell is left
“ Such vertue bath this cloth on which we sit," Unto thee now, but the cloth pretious
Said he," that where in this world us be list, Which I thee take shall, thee charging eft Suddenly with the thought shallen thither Ait, The company of women riotous
And how thither come unto us unwist : Thou fiee, lest it be to thee so grievous
As thing fro' farre, unknowne in the mist.” That thou it nat sustaine shalt pe beare,
And therewith, to this woman frandulent, Such company on my blessing forbeare."
“ To sleepe,” he said, “ have I good talent. The cloth she felt, and it hath him take,
“Let see,” quoth he, "stretch out anon thy lap, And of his lady, his mother, his leave
In which wole I my head lay down and rest.” He took, but first this forward gan he make:
So was it done, and he anon gan naps Mother,” said he, “ trusteth this weel and leeve Nap? nay, he slept right well, at best: That I shall seyn, forsooth ye shall it preeve,
What doth this woman, one the ficklest If I leese this cloth, never I your face
Of women all, but that cloth that lay Henceforth see wole, ne you pray of grace.
Under him, she drew lyte and lyte away. " With God's helpe I shall do well ynow.”
Whan she it had all : “ Would God," quoth she, Her blessing he tooke, and to study is go,
“ I were as I was this day morning!" And as beforne told have I unto you,
And therewith this root of iniquitie His paramour, his privy mortall foe,
Had her wish, and sole left him there sleeping. Was wont to meet him, right even so
O Jonathas ! like to thy perishing She did then, and made him pleasant cheere : Art thou, thy paramour made hath thy berd,
They clip and kisse, and walk homeward in feere. Whan thou wakest, cause last thou to be ferd. When they were entred in the house, he sprad But thou shalt doe full well, thou shalt obteene His cloth upon the ground, and thereon sit, Victory on her, thou has done some deed And bad his paramour, this woman bad,
Pleasant to thy mother, well can I weene, To sit also by him adowne on it.
For which our Lord quite shall thy meed, She doth as he commandeth and bit,
And thee deliver out of thy wofull dreed. Had she this thought and vertue of the cloth The childe whom that the mother u:eth blesse, Wist, to han set on it, had she been luth.
Full often sythe is eased in distresse. She for a while was full sore affesed.
Whan he awoke, and neither he ne fond This Jonathas wish in his beart gan :
Woman, ne cloth; he wept bitterly, “ Would God that I might thus been eased, And said, “ Alas! now is there is no lond That as on this cloth I and this woman
Man worse I know begon than am I !” Sit here, as farre were, as that never man
On every side his looke he cast, and sy Or this camne;" and unneth had he so thought, Nothing but birds in the aire flying, But they with the cloth thither weren brought
Aud wild beasts about him renning. Right to the world's end, as that it were,
Of whose sight he full sore was agrysed, When apparceived had she this, she cry'd
He thought, “ All this well deserved I have, A thogh she through girt had be with a spere.
What ayled me to be so evil avised, “ Harro! alas ! that ever shope this tide!
That'my counsell could I nat keep and save ? How came we hither?” “Nay,” he said, “ abide, Who can foole play? who can mad and rave ?
But he that to a woman his secree
Discovereth, the smart cleaveth now on me.” " For thou my ring and brooch hast fro' me He thus departeth as God would harmlesse, “O reverent sir! have upon me pittee,” [holden.” And forth of a venture his way he is went, Quoth she, “ if yè this grace do me wolden, But witherward he draw, he conceitlesse As bring me home agajne to the cittee
Was, he nat knew to what place he was bent. Where as I this day was, but if that ye
He past a water which was so fervent, Them have againe, of foul death do me dye;
That Mesh upon his feet left it him none, Your bountie on me kytbe, I mercy cry.”
All cleane was departed from the bone.
It shope so that he had a little glasse,
They to the king's presence han him lad, Which with that water anon filled he:
And him of the fruit of the second tree And when he further in his way gone was,
He gave to eate, and bad him to be glad, Before him he beheld and saw a tree
And said, “ Anon your health han shall yee:' That fair fruit bore, and in great plentie :
Eke of the second water him gave he He eate thereof, the taste him liked well,
To drinke, and whan he those two bad received, But he there-through became a foule mesel His lepry froın bim voided was and weived, For which unto the ground for sorrow and wo The king (as unto bis bigh dignity He fell, and said, “ Cursed be that day
Convenient was) gave him largely, That I was borne, and time and houre also And to bim said, “ If that it like thee That my mother conceived me, for ay
Abiden here, I more abundantly, Now am I lost! Alas, and well away !”
Thee give wole.” “ My lord, sickerly," And when some deel slaked his heavinesse, Quoth be, “fajne would I your pleasure fulfill,
He rose, and on his way he gan bim dresse. And in your higb presence abide still. Another water before him he sye,
“ But I no while may with you abide, Which (sore) no comen in he was adrad :
So mochill have I to done elsewhere." But nathelesse, since thereby, other way
Jonathas every day to the sea side, Ne about it there could none be had,
Which was nye, went to looke and enquere He thought, “ So streitly am I bestad,
If any ship drawing thither were, That though it sore me affese or gast,
Which him home to his countrey lead might, Assoile it wole I," and through it he past.
And on a day, of ships had he sight. And right as the first water his flesh
Well a thirty toward the castle draw, Departed from his feet, so the secownd
And at a time of evensong, they all Restored it, and made all whole and fresh :
Arrivedeu, of which he was full faw,
And to the shipınen cry he gan and call;
Tnat some of you me home to my countrie He fill'd, and fruit of the tree with him tooke.
Me bring would, well quit should he be.” Porth his journey this Jonathas held,
And told them whither that they shoulden goe. And as he his looke about him cast,
One of the shipmen forth start at last, Another tree from afarre he beheld,
And to bim said, “ My ship, and no moe To which he hasted, and him hied fast;
Of them that here been, doth shope and cast Hungry he was, and of the fruit be thrast
Thither to wend ; let see, tell on fast," Into his mouth, and eate of it sadly,
Quoth the shipman, " that thou for my travaile And of the lepry he purged was thereby.
Me give wilt, if that I thither saile.”
Unto the king to aske him licence
To twine thence, to which the king was loth, Of men there hung, as he might well sce,
And natblesse with bis benevolence, But not for that he shun would, or flee,
This Jonathas from his magnificence He thither him dresseth the streight way
Departed is, and forth to the shipman In that ever that he can or may.
His way he taketh, as swyth as he can.
Into the ship he entreth, and as blive
They said to him, “ Of yonder castle the king That had him terned with falsc deceitis,
A leeper is, and can whole be for nothing. But where no remedy followeth, streit is.. « With him there hath been many a sundry leech, Turnes been quit, all be they good or bad That undertooke him well to cure and heale Sometime, though they put been in delay. On paine of their heads, but all to seech
But to my purpose : sbe deemed he had
Lest that thou leese thy head, as didden they, Folke of the cittie knew not Jonathas,
But thou be wise thou find it shall no pley." So many a yeare was past, that he there was : “ Sirs," said he, “ you thanke I of your reed, Misliking and thought changed eke in his face, For gently ye han you to me quit :
Abouten he go'th, and for his dwelling But I pat dread to loose mine heed,
In the cittie, he hired him a place, ky God's belpe full safe keepe I will it.
And therein exercised his cunaing God of his grace such cunning and wit
Of physicke, to whom weren repairing Hath lent me, that I hope I shall him cure. Many a sicke wight, and all were healed; Full well dare I me put in aventure."
Well was the sicke man that with hiin dealed.
Now shop it thus that this Pellicula,
And heard seyne, for not might it been hid
How masterfull a leech he had him kid. Messages solemne to him she sent, Praying him to do so mochill labour As come and see her ; and he thither went : Whan he her saw, that she his paramour Had been, he well kuew, and for that dettour
To her he was, her he thought to quite
Or he went, and no longer it respite.
'To heale you there is no way but one,
He thought rue she should, and fore-thinke
Nad he relieved been, as ye above
Han heard, and this he did eke for her love,
Her wombe opened, and out fell each entraile
That in her was, thus it is said sans faile.
His life led he to his dying day,
By my hooke this is a tale
“ Aviseth you whether you list it take
So nigh mine heart, that I wol not how
Me to demene: tell on, I pray yow."
Of man is it, to give a medicine
That you may heale of your sicknes and pine. “ If any such thing be, tell it out reed, And ye shall been all whole I you beheet; Else mine art is nought withouten dreed. “ O Lord!” she thought, “ health is a thing full
sweet, Therewith desire I soverainly to meet :
Since I it by confession may recover,
A foole am I but I my guilt discover.”
Thou takest the beginning of thy name,
Thou root of malice and mirrour of shame.
And say nay, and streinc courtesie,
But with right good will thither he gan hye.
And to her bim dresseth to done his cure.
Roget will not say thee nay,
There are few such swaines as he
And well thou asken might'st if I Now adayes for harmonie.
Doe know him, or from whence
He comes, that to his minstralsie
Requires such patience.
He is a swinward, but I thinke
No swinrard of the best :
Por much he reketh of his swinke,
And carketh for his rest.
Harine take the swaine! What makes he here? How to cure them, and their dams:
What lucklesse planet frownes How to pitch the fold, and then,
Have drawne him and his hogges in feere How he should remove agen:
To root our daisied downes? Taught him, when the corne was ripe,
Ill mote he thrive! and may his hogges, How to make an oaten pipe,
And all that ere they breed, How to joyne them, how to cut tbem,
Be ever worried by our dogges, When to open, when to shut them,
For su presumptuous deed. And with all the skill he had
Why kept he not amongst the fennes ? Did instruct this willing lad.
Or in the copses by,
Or in the woods, and braky glennes,
Where hawes and acorns lie?
About the ditches of the towne, And he was not taught in vaine :
Or hedge-rowes, he might briug them.
But then some pence 'would cost the clowne That but jarre as Skelton's reed.
To yoke and eke to ring them;
And well I weene he loves no cost
But what is for bis backe : "Tis too true : but see the Sunne
To goe full gay him pleaseth most, Hath his journey fully runne;
And lets his belly lacke. And his horses all in sweate,
Two sites he hath, the one of blew, In the ocean cool their heate :
The other home-spun gray: Sever we our sheepe and fold them,
And yet he meanes to make a new 'Twill be night ere we have told them.
Against next revell day;
And though our May lord at the feast
posed this first tale, and was never till now im In cloth by his own mother drest,
His shoes with strings of leather red,
And stocking to his slop.
And yet for all it comes to passe,
He not our gybing scapes:
And some to Jack-an-apes.
THE SECOND EGLOGUE.
It seemcth then, by what is said,
That Jockie knowes the boore ;
(If fortune aught cau doe)
As conissance to take
No nymph of spring or lake,
But faine would sit by thee,
For thy sweet melodie.
The strawberrie for hire,
Notes of glee? bad ones I trow,
I have not heard beforne One so mistooke as Willy now,
'Tis some sow-gelder's horne.