Squyer Than eu(er) he dede, & fell to ground anon And lieth aswonne, as deed as lieth astoon Till Canacee hath in here lappe here take Vnto þat tyme she gan of swough awake And after þat she of swonnyng gan abreide Right in here haukes ledne þus she seide That pite renneth sone in gentle hert Felyng his similitude, in peynes smert, Is preved alday, as men mowe it see As Wele by werke as bi auctorite For gentle herte kyeth gentilnes I see wele, ye haue of my distres Compassion my Faire Canacee Of verray womanly benygnite þat nature in youre principlis hath sett But for noon. hope, for to fare the bett, But for to obey, vnto youre hert Fre And for to make other by ware bi me As bi the whelp, is chasted the lyo(u)n Right for þ(at) cause, & for þat conclusion While þat I haue, a leiser and a space Myn harme I woll confesse or I pace And while þat on(n), hir sorow tolde þat oþer wepte, as she to wat(er) wolde Till þat þe fauco(u)n, bad her(e) to be still, And w(ith) a sigh, right þus she seid here till Ther I was bred allas that ilke day And Fostred in a roche of marble gray So tendirly, that no thyng eyled me I wiste not, what was aduersite Till I couth flie ful high vnder þe sky Tho dwelled a Tercelett, me fast by þat semed the welle, of all gentiles All were he full: of treso(u)n and falsnes It was so wrapped, vnder humble chere And vnder hew of treuth, in such manere Vnder plesaunce, and vnder besy peyn þ(at) no wight, wolde haue wend he couth feyn So depe in grene, he died his Coloures Right as a Serpent, hidith hy(m) vnder shoures Till he may see his tyme For to bite Right so þis god of loues Ipocrite Doth hise c(er)mones and his obeisaunces And kepith in semblaunt al his observaunces That sowneth into Gentilnes of loue And on a thumbe, is al þe Faire aboue And vnder is the Corps such as ye wote Such was þis Ipocrite boþe cold and hote And in this wise he serued his entent þat safe þe Fend noon wist what he ment Till he longe had wepte and compleyned And many a yeer his servyse to me Feyned Till þat my hert: to pitous and to nyce All Innocent of his Crowned malice So Fered of his deth as þought me Vpon his othes, and on his suerte I graunted hym loue, on þis Condicio(u)n.
transcription
Squyer Than eu(er) he dede, & fell to ground anon And lieth aswonne, as deed as lieth astoon Till Canacee hath in here lappe here take Vnto þat tyme she gan of swough awake And after þat she of swonnyng gan abreide Right in here haukes ledne þus she seide That pite renneth sone in gentle hert Felyng his similitude, in peynes smert, Is preved alday, as men mowe it see As Wele by werke as bi auctorite For gentle herte kyeth gentilnes I see wele, ye haue of my distres Compassion my Faire Canacee Of verray womanly benygnite þat nature in youre principlis hath sett But for noon. hope, for to fare the bett, But for to obey, vnto youre hert Fre And for to make other by ware bi me As bi the whelp, is chasted the lyo(u)n Right for þ(at) cause, & for þat conclusion While þat I haue, a leiser and a space Myn harme I woll confesse or I pace And while þat on(n), hir sorow tolde þat oþer wepte, as she to wat(er) wolde Till þat þe fauco(u)n, bad her(e) to be still, And w(ith) a sigh, right þus she seid here till Ther I was bred allas that ilke day And Fostred in a roche of marble gray So tendirly, that no thyng eyled me I wiste not, what was aduersite Till I couth flie ful high vnder þe sky Tho dwelled a Tercelett, me fast by þat semed the welle, of all gentiles All were he full: of treso(u)n and falsnes It was so wrapped, vnder humble chere And vnder hew of treuth, in such manere Vnder plesaunce, and vnder besy peyn þ(at) no wight, wolde haue wend he couth feyn So depe in grene, he died his Coloures Right as a Serpent, hidith hy(m) vnder shoures Till he may see his tyme For to bite Right so þis god of loues Ipocrite Doth hise c(er)mones and his obeisaunces And kepith in semblaunt al his observaunces That sowneth into Gentilnes of loue And on a thumbe, is al þe Faire aboue And vnder is the Corps such as ye wote Such was þis Ipocrite boþe cold and hote And in this wise he serued his entent þat safe þe Fend noon wist what he ment Till he longe had wepte and compleyned And many a yeer his servyse to me Feyned Till þat my hert: to pitous and to nyce All Innocent of his Crowned malice So Fered of his deth as þought me Vpon his othes, and on his suerte I graunted hym loue, on þis Condicio(u)n.
Transcription
false