Of long passed I knew him wele,
Ungodly first though men him fele,
He woll meeke after in his bering
Been, for seruice and obeissing:

I shall thee tell what thou shalt do:
Meekely I rede thou go him to,
Of herte pray him specially
Of thy trespace to haue mercy,
And hote him well here to please,

Ne I woll not werne it thee,

That thou shalt neuer more him displease:
Who can best serue of flattery,
Shall please Daunger vtterly.'

My friend hath saied to me so wele,
That he me eased hath somedele,
And eke allegged of my tourment,
For through him had I hardement
Againe to Daunger for to go,

To preue if I might meeke him so.

To Daunger came I all ashamed,
The which aforne me had blamed,
Desiring for to pease my wo,
But ouer hedge durst I not go,
For he forbode me the passage:
I found him cruell in his rage,
And in his hond a great bourdoun,
To him I kneeled low adoun,

Full meeke of port, and simple of chere,
And saied, "Sir, I am comen here
Onely to aske of you mercy,
It greeueth me full greatly
That euer my life I wrathed you,
But for to amend I am come now,

With all my might, both loud and still,
To doen right at your owne will,
For Loue made me for to do
That I haue trespassed hiderto,

Fro whom I ne may withdraw mine herte,
Yet shall I neuer for ioy ne smart

(What so befall good or ill)
Offende more againe your will,
Leuer I haue endure disease,
Than doe that should you displease.

" I you require, and pray that ye
Of me haue mercy and pite,
To stint your ire that greueth so,
That I woll sweare for euermo
To be redressed at your liking
If I trespace in any thing,
Saue that (I pray thee) graunt me
A thing, that may nat warned be,
That I may loue all onely,
None other thing of you aske I:
I shall doen all ywis,

If of your grace ye graunt me this,
And ye may not letten mee,
For well wote ye that loue is free:
And I shall louen such that I will,
Whoever like it well or ill:

And yet ne would I not for all Fraunce
Doe thing to doe you displeasaunce."

Than daunger fell in his entent
For to foryeue his male talent,
But all his wrathe yet at last
He bath released, I praide so fast:
"Shortly" (he saied)" thy request

Is not too mockell dishonest,

For yet nothing engreeueth mee:

For though thou loue thus euermore,

To me is neither soft ne sore:

Loue where that thee list, what retcheth me, So ferre fro my roses be:

Trust not on me for none assaie,

In any time fo passe the haie."

Thus hath he graunted my prayere,
Than went I forth withouten were
Unto my frend, and told him all,
Which was right ioyfull of my tale,
(He saied) "Now goeth well thine affaire,
He shall to thee be debonaire,
Though he aforme was dispitous,
He shall hereafter be gracious:

If he were touched on some good veine,
He should yet rewen on thy peine,
Suffer I rede, and no boast make,
Till thou at good mes maist him take."
By suffraunce, and by wordes soft,
A man may ouercome oft

Him that aforne he had in drede,
In bookes soothly as I rede.

Thus hath my friend with great comfort
Auaunced me with high disport,
Which would me good, as much as I :
And than anon full sodainely

I tooke my leave, and streight I went
Unto the hay, for great talent

I had to seene the fresh bothom,
Wherein lay my saluation,
And Daunger tooke keepe, if that I
Keepe him couenaunt truely;
So sore I dread his manasing,
I durst not breake his bidding,
For least that I were of him shent,
I brake not his commaundement,
For to purchase his good will,
It was for to come there till,
His mercy was too ferre behind
I kept, for I ne might it find.
I complained and sighed sore,
And languished euermore,
For I durst nat ouergo,
Unto the rose I loued so,
Throughout my deming vtterly,
That he had knowledge certainly:
Than Loue me ladde in such wise,
That in me there was no feintise,
Falshood, ne no trecherie:
And yet he full of villanie,
Of disdaine, and crueltie,
On me ne would haue pitie

His cruell will for to refraine,

Tho I wept alway, and me complaine.

Or pinen him so angerly,
It is to you great villany:
I cannot see why ne how
That he hath trespassed againe you,
Saue that he loveth, wherfore ye shold
The more in charitie of him hold:
The force of love maketh him do this,
Who would him blame he did amis.
He leueth more than he may do,
His paine is hard, ye may see lo:
And love in no wise would consent
That ye haue power to repent,

For though that quicke ye would him slo,
Fro love his herte may uat go.

"Now swete sir, it is your ease
Him for to anger or disease.
Alas, what may it you auaunce
To doen to him so great greauaunce?
What worship is it againe him take,
Or on your man a werre make,
Sith he so lowly euery wise
Is ready, as ye lust deuise?

If Love have caught him in his laas,
You for to beie in euery caas,
And been your subject at your will,
Should ye therefore willen him ill?
Ye shuld him spare more all out,
Than him that is both proud and stout:
Courtesie would that ye succoure
Hem that been meeke vnder your cure:
His herte is hard that woll not meeke,
Whan men of meekenesse him beseeke."

"THIS is certaine," saied Pitie,
"We see oft that humilitie,
Both ire, and also felonie
Uenquisheth, and also malanchollie,
To stonde forth in such duresse
This crueltie and wickednesse:
Wherefore I pray you, sir Daungere,
For to maintaine no lenger here
Such cruell warre againe your man,
As wholly yours as euer he can,
Nor that ye worchen no more wo
Upon this caitife that languisheth so,
Which woll no more to you trespace,
But put him wholly in your grace:
His offence ne was but lite,
The god of love it was to wite,
That he your thrall so greatly is,
And if ye harme him ye doen amis,
For he hath had full hard pennaunce,
Sith that ye reft him thaquaintaunce
Of Bialacoil, his most joy,
Which all his paines might acoy:
He was before annoyed sore,

But than ye doubled him well more,
For he of blisse hath been full bare,
Sith Bialacoil was fro him fare:
Love hath to him great distresse,
He hath no need of more duresse ;
Voideth from him your ire I rede,
Ye may not winnen in this dede,
Maketh Bialacoil repaire againe,
And haveth pitie vpon his paine,
For Fraunchise woll, and I Pite,
That mercifull to him ye be,
And sith that she and I accorde,
Have vpon him misericorde,

For I you pray, and eke moneste,
Nought to refusen our requeste:
For he is hard and fell of thought,
That for vs two woll doe right nought."
Daunger ne might no more endure,
He meeked him vnto measure.
"I woll in no wise," saieth Daungere,
"Denie that ye have asked here:
It were too great vncourtesie,
I woll ye have the companie
Of Bialacoil, as ye deuise,
I woll him let in no wise."

To Bialacoil than went in hie,
Fraunchise, and saied full curteslie:
"Ye have too long be deignous
Unto this lover, and daungerous
Fro him to withdraw your presence,
Which hath do to him great offence,
That ye not would vpon him see,
Wherefore a sorrowfull man is hee:
Shape ye to pay him, and to please,
Of
my love if ye woll have case,
Fulfill his will, sith that ye know
Daunger is daunted and brought low
Through helpe of me and of Pite
You dare no more aferde be.".

BIALACOIL at the beginning
Salued me in his comming,

No straungenesse was in him seene,
No more than ne had wrathed been,
As faire semblaunt than shewed he me,
And goodly, as aforne did he,
And by the honde without dout,
Within the haie right all about,
He lad me with right good chere,
All enuiron the vergere,
That Daungere had me chased fro:
Now have I leave ouer all to go,
Now am I raised at my deuise
Fro Hell vnto Paradise.
Thus Bialacoil of gentlenesse
With all his paine and businesse,
Hath shewed me onely of grace
The efters of the swote place.

I saw the rose when I was nigh,
Was greater woxen, and more high,
Freshe, roddy, and faire of hew,
Of colour euer iliche new:
And whan I had it long seene,

I saw that through the leaues greene
The rose spread to spannishing,
To seene it was a goodly thing,
But it ne was so sprede on brede,
That men within might know the sede,
For it couert was and close

Both with the leaves and with the rose,
The stalke was euen and grene upright,
It was thereon a goodly sight,
And well the better without wene
For the seede was not sene,
Full faire it sprad, the god of blesse,
For such another, as I gesse,
Aforne ne was, ne more vermaile,

I was abawed for maruaile,

For euer the fairer that it was,

The more I am bounden in Loues laas.

Long I abode there sooth to say,
Till Bialacoil I gan to pray,
Whan that I saw him in no wise
To me warnen his seruise,

That he me would graunt a thing,
Which to remember is well sitting:
This is to saine, that of his grace
He would me yeue leisure and space
To me that was so desirous
To haue a kissing precious
Of the goodly fresh rose,

That so sweetly smelleth in my nose,
"For if it you displeased nought,
I woll gladly, as I haue sought,
Haue a kiss thereof freely
Of your yeft, for certainely

I woll none have but by your leue,
So loth me were you for to greue."

Hв saied, "Frend, so God me spede,
Of Chastitie I haue such drede,
Thou shouldest not warned be for me,
But I dare not for Chastite :
Againe her dare I not misdo,
For alway biddeth she me so
To yeve no louer leaue to kisse,
For who therto may winnen iwisse,
He of the surplus of the praie
May live in hope to get some day,
For who so kissing may attaine,
Of loues paine hath (sooth to saine)
The best and moste auenaunt,
And earnest of the remenaunt."

Or his answere I sighed sore,
I durst assay him tho no more,

I had such drede to greve him aye;
A man shuld not too much assaye
To chafe his friend out of measure,
Nor put his life in auenture;
For no man at the first stroke
Ne may not fell downe an oke,
Nor of the reisins haue the wine,
Till grapes be ripe and well afine,
Be sore empressed, I you ensure,
And drawen out of the pressure:
But I forpeined wonder strong,
Though that I abode right long
And after the kisse, in paine and wo,
Sith I to kisse desired so:
Till that renning on my distresse,
There come Uenus the goddesse
(Which aye werrieth Chastite)
Came of her grace to succour me,
Whose might is know ferre and wide,
For she is mother of Cupide,

THE god of Loue, blinde as stone,
That helpeth louers many one.
This lady brought in her right hond
Of brenning fire a blasing brond,
Whereof the flame and hote fire
Hath many a lady in desire
Of loue brought, and sore hette,
And in her seruice her herte is sette.

This lady was of good entaile,
Right wonderfull of apparaile,
By her attire so bright and shene,
Men might perceiue well and sene,
She was not of religioun:
Nor I nill make mentioun
Nor of robe, nor of treasour,

Of broche, neither of her rich attour,
Ne of her girdle about her side,
For that I nill not long abide,
But knoweth well, that certainly
She was arraied richely;
Deuoid of pride certaine she was,
To Bialacoil she went apaas,
And to him shortely in a clause
She said: "Sir, what is the cause
Ye ben of port so daungerous
Unto this louer, and dainous,

To graunt him nothing but a kisse?
To warne it him ye done amisse,
Sith well ye wot, how that hee
Is Loues seruaunt, as ye may see,
And hath beautie, where through is
Worthy of loue to haue the blis:
How he is seemely behold and see,
How he is faire, how he is free,
How he is swote and debonaire,
Of age young, lusty, and faire,
There is no lady so hautaine,
Duchesse, countesse, ne chastelaine,
That I nolde hold her vngodly,
For to refuse him vtterly.

"His breath is also good and swete,
And eke his lips roddy and mete,
Onely to plaine, and to kisse,
Graunt him a kisse of gentlenisse.

"His teeth are also white and clene,
Me thinketh wrong withouten wene,
If ye now warne him, trusteth me,
To graunt that a kisse haue he,
The lasse ye helpe him that ye haste,
And the more time shull ye waste."

Whan the flame of the very brond
That Uenus brought in her right hond,
Had Bialacoil with his hete smete,
Anone he bad me withouten lete,
Graunt to me the rose kisse,
Than of my paine I gan to lisse,
And to the rose anon went I,
And kissed it full faithfully:
There need no man aske if I was blith,
Whan the savour soft and lith
Stroke to mine herte without more,
And me allegged of my sore,

So was I full of joy and blisse,
It is faire such a floure to kisse,
It was so swote aud sauerous,
I might not be so anguishous,
That I mote glad and jolly be,
Whan that I remembre me,
Yet euer among soothly to saine,
I suffer noie and muche paine.

Right so fareth Love, that selde in one Holdeth his anker, for right anone Whan they in ease wene best to live, They ben with tempest all fordriue: Who serueth Love, can tell of wo, The stoundmele joy mote ouergo, Now he hurteth, and now he cureth, For selde in o point Love endureth.

Now is it right me to proceed,
How Shame gan meddle and take heed,
Through whom fell angers I have hade,
And how the strong wall was made,
And the castle of brede and length,
That god of love wan with his strength:
All this romance will I set,
And for no thing ne will I let,
So that it liking to her be,
That is the floure of beaute,

For she may best my labour quite,
That I for her love shall endite.

Wicked Tongue, that the couine
Of euery lover can deuine
Worst, and addeth more somdele
(For wicked tongue saith neuer wele)
To me ward bare he right great hate,
Espying me early and late,

Till he hath seene the great chere
Of Bialacoil and me ifere:
He might not his tongue withstond
Worse to reporte than he fond,
He was so full of cursed rage;
It sat him wele of his linage,
For him an irous woman bare;

His tongue was filed sharpe and square,
Poignaunt and right keruing,
And wonder bitter in speaking;
For whan that he me gan espy,
He swore (affirming sikerly)
Betweene Bialacoil and me

Was euill acquaintaunce and priue :
He spake thereof so folilie,
That he awaked Ielousie,
Which all afraied in his rising,
When that he heard iangling,
He ran anon as he were wood
To Bialacoil there that he stood,
Which had leuer in this caas
Haue ben at Reines or Amias,
For fote hote in his fellonie,
To him thus said Ielousie :
"Why hast thou ben so negligent,
To keepen, whan I was absent,
This verger here left in thy ward?
To me thou haddest no regard,
To trust (to thy confusion)
Him thus, to whom suspection
I haue right great, for it is nede,
It is well shewed by the dede.
Great fault in thee now have I found,
By God anon thou shalt be bound,
And faste locken in a toure,
Without refuite or succoure.

"FOR Shame too long hath be thee fro, Ouersoone she was ago,

Whan thou hast lost both drede and fere,
It seemed well she was not here,
She was busie in no wise,

To keepe thee and chastise,

And for to helpen Chastite

To keepe the roser, as thinketh me,
For then this boy knaue so boldly,
Ne should not have be hardy
In this verge had such game,

Which now me turneth to great shame."

BIALACOIL nist what to say,
Full faine he would have fled away,
For feare have hid, nere that he
All suddainly tooke him with me:
And whan I saw he had so,
This Ielousie take vs two,

I was astonied, and knew no rede,
But fled away for very drede.

Then Shame came forth full simply,
She wend have trespaced full greatly,
Humble of her port, and made it simple,
Wearing a vaile in stede of wimple,
As nonnes done in hir abbey:
Because her herte was in affray,
She gan to speake within a throw
To Ielousie, right wonder low.

First of his grace she besought,
And said: "Sir, ne leueth nought
Wicked Tongue, that false espie,
Which is so glad to faine and lie,
He hath you made, through flattering,
On Bialacoil a false leasing:
His falsenesse is not now anew,
It is too long that he him knew:
This is not the first daie,

For Wicked Tongue hath custome aie,
Younge folkes to bewrie,

And false lesings on hem lie.

"Yet neuerthelesse I see among, That the soigne it is so long Of Bialacoil, hertes to lure, In Loves seruice for to endure, Drawing suche folke him to, That he had nothing with to do, But in soothnesse I trowe nought, That Bialacoil had euer in thought To do trespace or villanie, But for his mother Curtesie Hath taught him euer to be Good of acquaintaunce and priue, For he loveth none heauinesse, But mirth and play, and all gladnesse; He hateth all trechous, Soleine folke and enuious: For ye weten how that he Woll euer glad and joyfull be Honestly with folke to pley: I have be negligent in good fey To chastise him, therefore now ! Of herte I crie you here mercy, That I haue ben so recheles To tamen him withouten lees, Of my folly I me repent, Now woll I hole set mine entent To keepe both low and still Bialacoil to do your will."

"Shame, Shame" (said Ielousy) "To be bitrashed great drede haue I. "Lecherie hath clombe so hie, That almost bleared is mine eie, No wonder is, if that drede haue I Ouer all reigneth Lechery,

Whose might groweth night and dey,
Both in cloyster and in abbey,
Chastitie is werried ouer all,
Therefore I woll with siker wall
Close both roses and rosere,
I have too long in this manere
Left hem vnclosed wilfully:
Wherefore I am right inwardly
Sorrowfull, and repent me,
But now they shall no lenger be
Unclosed, and yet I drede sore,
I shall repent ferthermore,
For the game goeth all amis,
Counsaile I must new ywis,
I haue too long trusted thee,
But now it shall no lenger bee:
For he may best in euery cost
Deceiue that men tresten most:
I see well that I am nigh shent,
But if I set my full entent
Remedy to puruey:

Wherefore close I shall the wey
From hem that woll the rose espie,
And come to wait me villonie,
For in good faith and in trouth
I woll not let for no slouth
To liue the more in sikernesse,
Do make anon a fortresse.

Than close the roses of good sauour;
In middes shall I make a tour
To put Bialacoil in prison,
For ever I drede me of treason;
I trow I shall him keepe so,

That he shall have no might to go
About to make compagnie
To hem that thinke of villanie,
Ne to no such as nath ben here
Aforne, and found in him good chere,
Which han assailed him to shend,
And with hir trowandise to blend,
A foole is eith to beguile,

But may I liue a little while,

He shall forthinke his faire semblaunt."

And with that word came Drede Auauut, Which was abashed, and in great fere, Whan he wist lelousie was there. He was for drede in such affray, That not a worde durst he say, But quaking stood full still alone (Till Jelousie his way was gone) Saue Shame, that him not forsoke, Both Drede and she full sore quoke, That at last Drede abraide, And to his cousin Shame saide.

"Shame" (he said)" in soothfastnesse, To me it is great heauinesse, That the noise so ferre is go, And the slaunder of vs two: But sithe that it is befall, We may it not againe call, When once sprung is a fame: For many a yeare withouten blame We haue ben, and many a day, For many an April and many a May We han passed, not ashamed, Till Jelousie hath vs blamed Of mistrust and suspection Causelesse, without encheson : Go we to Daunger hastely, And let vs shew him openly,

That he hath not aright wrought,
Whan that he set not his thought
To keepe better the purprise;
In his doing he is not wise.
He hath to vs do great wrong,
That hath suffred now so long
Bialacoil to have his will
All his lustes to fulfill:
He must amend it vtterly,
Or els shall he villanously
Exiled be out of this lond:
For he the warre may not withstond
Of Ielousie, nor the greefe,

Sith Bialacoil is at mischeefe."

To Daunger, Shame and Drede anon
The right way ben gon:
The chorle they founde hem aforne
Ligging vnder an hawthorne.
Under his head no pillow was,
But in the stede a trusse of gras:
He slombred, and a nappe he toke,
Till Shame pitously him shoke,
And great manace on him gan make.

"Why sleepest thou when thou should wake (Quod Shame)" thou dost vs villanie,

Who trusteth thee, he doth follie,

To keepe roses or bothums

When they be faire in hir seasons:
Thou art woxe too familiere

Where thou should be straunge of chere,
Stout of thy port, ready to greue:
Thou doest great folly for to leue
Bialacoil here in to call

The yonger man to shenden vs all:
Though that thou sleepe, we may here,
Of lelousie great noise here,

Art thou now late, rise vp and hye,

And stop soone and deliuerlye

All the gaps of the hay;

Do no fauour I thee pray :

It falleth nothing to thy name,

To make fair semblant, were thou maist blame

"IF Bialacoil be sweet and free,
Dogged and fell thou shuldest bee,
Froward and outragious iwis,

A chorle chaungeth that curteis is;
This haue I heard oft in saying,
That man may for no daunting
Make a sperhauke of a bosarde:
All men hold thee for musarde,
That debunaire haue founden thee,
It sitteth thee nought curteis to bee,
To do men pleasaunce or seruise,
In thee it is recreaundise:

Let thy werkes ferre and nere
Be like thy name, which is Daungere."
Then all abashed in shewing,
Anon spake Drede, right thus saying,
And said, "Daunger, I drede me,
That thou ne wolt besie be

To keepe that thou hast to keepe,

When thou shuldest wake, thou art asleepe; Thou shalt be greeued certainely,

If thee aspie Ielousy,

Or if he finde thee in blame.

He hath to do assailed Shame,