10

The armes, the which that Cupyde bare,

Wer pearced hartes with teares besprent, In silver and sable to declare

The ftedfast love, he alwaies ment.

There myght you see his band al drest

In colours lyke to white and blacke, With powder and with pellets prest

To bring the fort to spoyle and facke.

Good-wil, the maister of the shot,

Stode in the rampire brave and proude, For spence of powder he spared not

Affault! assault ! to crye aloude.

20

There might you heare the cannons rore;

Eche piece discharged a lovers loke; Which had the power to rent, and tore

In any place wheras they toke.

25

And even with the trumpets sowne

The scaling ladders wer up set, And Beauty walked up and downe,

With bow in hand, and arrowes whet.

30

Then first Desire began to scale,

And shrouded him under his targe ; As one the worthiest of them al,

And aptest for to geve the charge.

Then

Then pushed souldiers with their pykes,

And halberders with handy strokes ; The argabushe in fleshe it lightes,

And duns the ayre with misty smokes.

35

And as it is now' souldiers use

When shot and powder gyns to want, I hanged up my fiagge of truce,

And pleaded for my livès grant.

40

When Fanfy thus had made her breache,

And Beauty entred with her bande, With bag and baggage, sely wretch,

I yelded into Beauties hand.

45

Then Beauty bad to blow retrete,
And
every

fouldiour to retyre,
And Mercy milde' with spede to fet

Me captive bound as prisoner.

so

Madame, quod I, fith that this day

Hath served you at all assayes, I yelde to you without delay

Here of the fortresse all the kayes :

And fith that I have ben the marke,
At whom

you

shot at with your eye ; Nedes must you with your handy warke

Or falve my fore, or let me die.

55

IX. Sir

IX.

SIR ALDINGAR.

This old fabulous legend is given from the Editor's folio MS, with a few conjettural emendations, and the intsertion of 3 or 4 panzas to supply defeats in the original copy.

UR kyng he kept a false stewarde,

Sir Aldingar they him call;
A falser fteward than he was one;

Servde not in bower nor hall.

He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,

Her deere worshippe to betraye:
Our queene thee was a good woman;

And evermore fayd him naye.

Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,

With her hee was never content,
Till traiterous meanes he colde devyfe,

In a fyer to have her brent.

There came a lazar to the ki gs gate,

A lazar both blinde and I ne :
He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
And on the queenes bed him layne,

.

15

Lye

As God nowe grant it bee !
Thy bodye, I sweare by the holye rood,

Lye ftill, lazàr, wheras thou lyest,
Looke thou

go
not hence

away ;
Ile make thee a whole man and a sound

In two howers of the day.”

20

Then went him forth fir Aldingar,

And hyed him to our king: « If I might have grace, as I have space,

" Sad tydings I could bring.”

25

Saye on, faye on, fir Aldingar,

on the foothe to mee.
queene

hath chosen a new new love,
And shee will have none of thee.

Saye Co Our

co

" If thee had chosen a right good knight,

" The lesse had beene her shame; “ But she hath chose her a lazar man,

A lazar both blinde and lame."

If this be true, fir Aldingar,

The tydings thou tellest to me,
Then I will make thee a riche riche knight,

Riche both of golde and fee.

35

But if it be false, fir Aldingar,

Shall hang

VOL. II.

on the gallows tree.

E

40 He

He brought our king to the queenes chamber,

And opend to him the dore.
A lodlye love, king Henrye sayd,

For our queene dame Elinore !

If thou wert a man, as thou art none,

45 Here on my sword thouft dye;

of new gallowes shall now be built, And there fhalt thou hang on hye.

But a payre

50

Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,

And an angry man was hee;
And foone he found queene Elinore,

That bride fo bright of blee.

Now God you save, our queene, madame,

And Christ you save and fee; Heere

you

have chosen a newe newe love,
And
you

will have none of mee.

55

If you had chosen a right good knight,
The leffe had been

your

shame :
But
you
have chose

you
lazar

man,
A lazar both blinde and lame.

a

Therfore a fyer there shall be built

And brent all shalt thou bee.
Now out alacke! fayd our comlye queene,

Sir Aldingar's false to mee.

Now