He

wrang

his hands, he rent his hair,

And wept teenefu' muid:

O traitors for this cruel deid

Ze fall weip teirs o' bluid.

And after Gordon he is gane,
Sa faft as he micht drie;

And foon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid,
He's wroken his dear ladie.

KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR

I

MAID.

Read that once in Affrica

A princely wight did raine,

Who had to name Cophetua,
As poets they did faine :
From natures lawes he did decline,
For fure he was not of my mind,
He cared not for woman-kinde,
But did them all difdaine.
But, marke, what hapned on a day.
As he out of his window lay,
He faw a beggar all in gray,
The which did caufe his paine.

D

The blinded boy, that shootes so trim,

From heaven downe did hie;

He drew a dart and fhot at him,
In place where he did lye:

Which foone did pierfe him to the quicke,
And when he felt the arrow pricke,
Which in his tender heart did flicke,
He looketh as he would dye.
What fudden chance is this, quoth he,
That I to love must subject be,
Which never thereto would agree,
But ftill did it defie?

Then from the window he did come,
And laid him on his bed,

A thoufand heapes of care did runne
Within his troubled head:

For now he meanes to crave her love,
And now he feekes which way to proove
How he his fancie might remoove,

And not this beggar wed.

But Cupid had him fo in fnare,
That this poore begger muft prepare
A falve to cure him of his care,
Or els he would be dead.

And, as he mufing thus did lye,
He thought for to devise

How he might have her companye,
That fo did 'maze hiseyes.

In thee, quoth he, doth reft my life,
For furely thou fhalt be my wife;
Or elfe this hand with bloody knife
The Gods fhall fure fuffice.
Then from his bed he foon arose.
And to his pallace gate he goes:
Full little then this begger knowes
When the the king espies.

The gods preferve your majefty
The beggers all gan cry:
Vouchsafe to give your charity
Our childrens food to buy.

The king to them his purffe did caft,
And they to part it made great hafie,
The filly 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 faid,, With us you fhal remaine Till fuch 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 fhortly shall be seene:

Our wedding fhall appointed be,

And every thing in its degree:

Come on, quoth he, and follow me,
Thou fhalt go fhift thee cleane.
What is thy name, faire maid, quoth he?
Penelophon, O king, quoth fhe:
With that she made a lowe courtfey,

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 imbrace:

The begger blufheth scarlet red,
And ftraight againe as pale as lead,
But not a word at all she said,

She was in fuch amaze.

At laft fhe fpake with trembling voyce
And faid, O king, I do rejoyce

That

you wil take me for your choyce, And my degree's fo base.

And when the wedding day was come,

The king commanded strait

The noblemen both all and fome
Upon the queene to wait.

And thee behavde herfelf that day,
As if he had never walkt the way;

She had forgot her gowne of gray,
Which she did weare of late.

The proverbe old is come to passe,
The priest, when he begins his masse,
Forgets that ever clerke he was,
He knowth not his eftate.

Here you may read, Cophetua,
Though long time fancie-fed,
Compelled by the blinded boy
The begger for to wed,

He that did lovers lookes difdaine,
To do the fame was glad and faine,
Or elfe he would him felfe have flaine,
In ftorie, as we read.

Difdaine no whit, O ladye deere,
But pitty now thy fervant heere,
Leaft 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 fheweth plaine. The lords they tooke it grieviously, The ladies tooke it heavily, The commons cryed pitiously,

Their death to them was paine..