Part 2 (1/2)

”What sudden chance is this,” quoth he, ”That I to love must subject be, Which never thereto would agree, But still did it defie?”

Then from the window he did come, And laid him on his bed; A thousand heapes of care did runne Within his troubled head.

For now he meanes to crave her love, And now he seekes which way to proove How he his fancie might remoove, And not this beggar wed.

But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor begger must prepare A salve to cure him of his care, Or els he would be dead.

And as he musing thus did lye, He thought for to devise How he might have her companye, That so did 'maze his eyes.

”In thee,” quoth he, ”doth rest my life; For surely thou shalt be my wife, Or else this hand with b.l.o.o.d.y knife, The G.o.ds shall sure suffice.”

Then from his bed he soon arose, And to his pallace gate he goes; Full little then this begger knowes When she the king espies.

”The G.o.ds preserve your majesty,”

The beggers all gan cry; ”Vouchsafe to give your charity, Our childrens food to buy.”

The king to them his purse did cast, And they to part it made great haste; This silly woman was the last That after them did hye.

The king he cal'd her back againe, And unto her he gave his chaine; And said, ”With us you shal remaine Till such time as we dye.

”For thou,” quoth he, ”shalt be my wife, And honoured for my queene; With thee I meane to lead my life, As shortly shall be seene: Our wedding shall appointed be, And every thing in its degree; Come on,” quoth he, ”and follow me, Thou shalt go s.h.i.+ft thee cleane.

What is thy name, faire maid?” quoth he.

”Penelophon, O King,” quoth she; With that she made a lowe courtsey; A trim one as I weene.

Thus hand in hand along they walke Unto the king's pallace: The king with courteous, comly talke This begger doth embrace.

The begger blusheth scarlet red, And straight againe as pale as lead, But not a word at all she said, She was in such amaze.

At last she spake with trembling voyce, And said, ”O King, I doe rejoyce That you wil take me for your choyce, And my degree so base.”

And when the wedding day was come, The king commanded strait The n.o.blemen, both all and some, Upon the queene to wait.

And she behaved herself that day As if she had never walkt the way; She had forgot her gowne of gray, Which she did weare of late.

The proverbe old is come to pa.s.se, The priest, when he begins his ma.s.se, Forgets that ever clerke he was He knowth not his estate.

Here you may read Cophetua, Through long time fancie-fed, Compelled by the blinded boy The begger for to wed: He that did lovers lookes disdaine, To do the same was glad and faine, Or else he would himselfe have slaine, In storie, as we read.

Disdaine no whit, O lady deere, But pitty now thy servant heere, Least that it hap to thee this yeare, As to that king it did.

And thus they led a quiet life During their princely raine, And in a tombe were buried both, As writers sheweth plaine.

The lords they tooke it grievously, The ladies tooke it heavily, The commons cryed pitiously, Their death to them was paine.

Their fame did sound so pa.s.singly, That it did pierce the starry sky, And throughout all the world did flye To every princes realme.

King Leir and his Three Daughters

King Leir once ruled in this land With princely power and peace, And had all things with hearts content, That might his joys increase.

Amongst those things that nature gave, Three daughters fair had he, So princely seeming beautiful, As fairer could not be.

So on a time it pleas'd the king A question thus to move, Which of his daughters to his grace Could shew the dearest love: ”For to my age you bring content,”

Quoth he, ”then let me hear, Which of you three in plighted troth The kindest will appear.”

To whom the eldest thus began: ”Dear father, mind,” quoth she, ”Before your face, to do you good, My blood shall render'd be.

And for your sake my bleeding heart Shall here be cut in twain, Ere that I see your reverend age The smallest grief sustain.”