e
your prudence your goodnes / dooth mercy extende
Why sholde ye than enclyne to cruelte
Your grace I trust wyll non extremyte

A dere herte I maye complayne ryght longe
you here me not / nor se me not arayed
Nor causes my paynes for to be stronge
It was myn eyes / that made me fyrst dysmayde
With stroke of loue / that coude not me delaye
My ryght fayre lady / my herte is colde and faynt
Wolde now to god / that you knewe my complaynte

Thus as I mourned I herde a lady speke
I loked asyde I sawe my lady gracyous
My herte than fared / as it sholde breke
For perfyte Ioye whiche was solacyous
Before her grace / ryght swete and precyous
I kneled doune / saynge with all mekenesse
Please it your grace / & excellent noblenes

No dyspleasure to take for my beynge here
For fortune me brought / to this place ryall
Where I haue wonne this floure so vertuous & dere
This swerde and shelde / also not peregall
Towadre hym aduenture to be tryumphall
And now by fortunes desteny and fate
Do here my duety vnto your hygh estate

Ihesu sayd she than / who hadde wende to fynde
Your selfe walkynge / in this place all alone
Full lytell thought I / ye were not in my mynde
What is the cause / that ye make suche mone
I thynke some thynge / be from you past and gone
But I wonder / how that ye dyde attayne
This floure / this swerde / the shelde also certayne

For by a lady in the antyquyte
They were made to a meruaylous entente
That none sholde get them / but by auctoryte
Whiche onely by fortune / sholde hyder be sent
Full many knyghtes by entendement
Hath them aduentred / to haue them in dede
But all was vayne / for they myght neuer spede

Wherfore surely / ye are moche fortunate
Them for to wynne by your aduenture
But it was no thynge to you ordynate
And you dyde well / to put your selfe in vre
To proue the Ieoperdy / whiche hath made you sure
Leue all your mournynge / for there is no wyght
Hath greter cause / for to be gladde and lyght

I behelde well her demure countenaunce
Vnto her swete wordes / gyuynge good audyence
And than I marked in my remembraunce
Her pleasaunt apparayle / with all my dylygence
Whiche was full ryche of meruaylous excellence
Fyrst alofte her forheed / full properly was dressed
Vnder her orellettes / her golden heere well tressed

About her necke whyte as ony lyly
A prety chayne of the fynest golde
Some lynkes with grene enameled truely
And some were blacke / the whiche I dyde beholde
The vaynes