University of Virginia Library

Sometime in Turky there,
A famouse lande by name,
Did dwell a kīg whose daughters fare
Deserued immortal fame:
So bewtifull she was,
So fette of lymme and ioynte,
That sure a worlde it was to see,
Her shape from point to point.
So comly to be knitte,
For witte she bare the bell,
Her comly shape all other wightes
For bewtie did excell:
Her grace is such to see
That heauen it was to heare
And see, what suters was to get
This worthy royall peare:
As thicke as starres in skies
So thicke the people be,
In euery place the comly corps
Of this Princes to see.
The lusty gentell knightes,
On foaming steades on hie,
Her loue to wynne, their manly force
Full often there doe trie.
And demyng in their myndes
That he that once should haue
The victory, auaunce more nede not
Of her, her loue to craue.
Therfore they haue decreede
A tournament to crie,
In which they thinke with dynte of sworde
Their harnes for to trie.
Then to the king they go
With one assent, and saie:
We thee desier most royall Lorde,
To graunt without delaye.
A tournament to be,
Our forces for to trie,
Your presence likewyse there we craue,
The playe to bewtifie.
This is all our request,
This is that we doe craue:
Thus shall you doe a gratefull thing,
If our requestes we haue.
The king foorthwith doth graunte,
To their request in deede,
And biddeth them prepare them selues,
To trie them selues with speede.
And thus their leaue they take,
And homeward take their waye:
And euery oure they thinke a yeere,
Before that come the daye.
The daie then being come,
In glistring armour bright:
One might beholde on coursers tale,
Full many a manly knight.
With speare and lannce in hande,
I clad in plate of steele,
Naught wanting there, that might become
A manly knight so wele.
But first of all it doth
Behoue for to descriue,
The maner of the place, wherein
These lusty knightes should striue.
Without the Palaise great
Of Sylewma the king,
Appointed was the field, which was
Made compasse like a rynge;
In ether ende whereof
Was mightie pillers sette,
To which the parties ouercome,
By forse of armes were fette,
And there the lawe was so,
That then they must abide,
Untill such time that other were
Toke of the other side.
And at one ende there was,
Appointed for to stande,
Pandauola for whom this broile,
They first had tooke in hande.
And all the companie
Of Ladies of great prise,
Stoode there beside, within a place
That was made there likewyse.
At thother end the king,
Did sitte with all his traine:
And in the middes were Judges sette,
Indifferent for them twayne.
Thus passed was the night,
And daie began tappeare:
And trompettes blew in euery place,
The sound eche wight might heare.
Then first in field there came,
The king and tooke his place:
And afterward Pandauola,
Came with her fathers grace.
And tooke her seate where as
She, pointed was and then
The harrauldes foorth are sent to shew
Unto these lusty men
How that the king was set,
And wayted them to see,
Wherefore the trompettes are commaunde
Foorthwith I bloun should be,
The Martiall seas that none
Doe come within the rayle:
Then comes the knightes and to their king,
Their bonettes they doe vayle.
But one among the rest,
That Alfine had to name,
Is chalenger and must beginne
To showe this royall game.
A comly knight he was,
Pandauolas one deare:
And she to him did speake these woordes,
Euen with a mery cheare,
My Lord (quod she) you see,
That naught can here auayle,
But stripes with courage bold and stout,
Your foes for to assaile.
And for your party I
Am sure good knightes to haue:
And nought there wantes but courage bolde,
From daunger you to saue.
And courage stoute I knowe,
Doth you possesse and holde,
Wherby your foes neuer so stoute,
May easy be controulde:
Go wende in haste therfore,
Prepare your selfe to fight:
And for to honor you the more,
We will giue you the sight.
To whom he aunswered,
If that I so might craue:
Your gloue or sleue, then might I thinke,
The victorie to haue.
Oh Lady deare therfore,
Graunt this my small desier:
And then I thinke for my desert,
I am repaide my hier.
This saide, her gloue she drawes
From of her fingers small,
And giues to him and eke a ringe,
She giueth there withall.
Who nowe doth ioye but he,
Who els desires to fight
But he, then straight the defendant,
Is come redy in sight.
Who Flaccus had to name,
And after him doth ryde,
The brother of this Alfine looe,
A man of litle pride.
When as before the kyng
They came, they license craue,
That they the field as doth behoue,
May full possesse and haue.
To trie their lusty steedes,
Their hartes and harnes strong,
And eke to trie which of them all
Should lay other along.
The king hath graunted them,
The trompettes straight doth blowe,
With speare in reste these manly knightes
Thone at thother goe.
He that in fielde then was,
Must learne his head to saue,
Or els may chaunce appointed be,
To lie full long in graue.
Their speares that well were whette,
On harnise chrasshing crie,
And other some how swoordes will holde
Upon their helmettes trie.
But Flaccus Alfine markes,
And straight at him doth ronne,
But Alfine falling on his men,
This worthy knight doth shonne.
But he with cruell hate
Aloude in fielde doth crie:
Oh Alfine, Alfine, where art thou
That pointed hast to trie?
With me by force of armes
The gloue and ringe to haue,
Come forth I saie, both the and thine,
Against me se thou saue.
When Alfine harde him crie
After this kynde of wise,
His harte for Ire began to quake,
His bloud began to rise.
And setting sporres to horse,
He brake his foes araye,
And smyteth Flaccus in the shelde,
That on the grounde he laye.
Then Alfine striues to drawe
This Flaccus lacking breth
Unto the piller there beside,
But Brennus rescueth
This Flaccus, and vpon
His brother Alfine falles,
With mortall dynte of sworde,
Aloude to him he calles.
O brother tourne thee nowe,
I doe thee here defie,
And if thou be a gentill knight,
Seeme not for to denie,
To meete me here in fielde,
Sithe that fortune hath so
Appointed vs, then both at once,
Togeather they doe go:
And rushing here and there,
How for to sytte they trie:
And thone at thother ranne so sore,
Their speares in peeces flie.
But by this time Flaccus,
His selfe was come vnto,
And armed now his foes in field,
Doth mortaly pursue.
But meting once againe,
With Alfine in the field,
Of courage and of ire he doth
Unto the soldiers yield,
Such bloes that none before,
His swoorde durst once to stand,
And hauing made a way by force,
He ioyneth hand to hand,
With Alfine and they both,
At once to ground are caste:
And then they both agreed are,
Retrete to blowe at laste.
The rest for to deferre,
Untill the sunne began
For to descende possessing earst,
His place Meredian.
The king vnto the court
Anone doth take his waye,
Pointing an our or two I wis
Within his place to staye.
And then for to retourne,
The ende hereof to see,
Agreed they are and in the court
To dinner gone they bee,
But lo Pandauola,
Hath caught a mortall blowe,
Euen with a shafte that was shot foorth
From out dame Cupides bowe.
Her harte was set on fire,
And she began to burne,
The rosis in her ruddey cheekes,
Began awaye to turne.
Her senses doe denie,
Their offices to doe:
Her breath doth fayle and men doe looke,
But death for to insue.
She eates no meate at all,
But downe on bed is laide:
But at the last her eies out brast
With teares, and thus she saide.
Oh Gods that rule the skies,
In whome my trust doth lie,
And thou O God whiche chiefest arte
Aboue the golden skie.
And thou oh Lady deare,
Oh Venus by thy name,
Vouchsaue my wofull crie to heare,
Thy captiue doe not blame:
Though that alwayes I sought,
Thy forse for to withstande:
Yet nowe I feele the mighty stroke
Of Cupide thy sonnes hande.
Take pitie now therefore
Sithe that a captiue I:
Can not preuaile, yet giue me salfe
To helpe my misery.
And take me to thy grace,
Sythe that my selfe I yelde,
And graunte to smyte him with that shafte
Thou hittes me in the fielde.
Oh Cupide I the praie,
This whyle the knightes are gone
Them selues to dine and rest their corps,
But Alfines layd vpon
His bedde, and doth complaine,
Of heuy woes and smart,
Which for Pandauola his dere,
Doth vexe him at the harte.
The king hath heard hou that
His daughter doth not well,
And sendeth for Phisitians
In conning that excell,
To knowe the cause of griefe,
That doth her so molest,
And eke of them to knowe what kinde
Of medicines are beste.
Her health againe to gette,
The messengers are gone,
Whome the Phisitions aunswere,
That they will wayte vpon
His prudent grace, as fast
As possible they may:
And with the messengers they all
To court doe take their way.
The game is then deferde
Untill an other tide:
And postes for Phisitians yet,
About the countrey ryde.
In meane space she with paine
Is vext, and greuous smart:
And cruell cares with great anoye,
Tormente her gentill harte.
At last the Phisitions,
Are come her grace to see:
But oh alas there is none can tell,
To cure her maladie.
The king doth weepe and wayle,
His daughter thus to see:
At last of them he doth inquire,
If any helpe there be?
To whom they aunswere made,
With heuy pending cheare:
That naught but death in her at all
To their sight did appeare,
For liuely bloud was gone,
Her poulses did not beate
Her limmes waxt starke for want of bloud,
And of her liuely heate.
Her sensis all are dull,
And death approched nye,
But this they said vnto the kyng,
Their cunning they would trye:
Her health againe to get,
Hir Ladies sitte her by,
And doth beholde how now and then,
She tournes her heuy eye:
As though that Atropos
Should ende her vitall race:
And eke that nature quite and cleane,
Her worke should so deface.
The place with waylinges great,
Is filde vnto the ende,
The Phisitions the company
Out of the chamber sende.
Then they their medicines,
Unto this lady giue:
The whiche opprest with cares beginnes
Againe for to reliue.
The king is this meane while
Within his chamber set,
To whom a messenger is come,
And thus the king doth greete.
The Gods thee saue O king,
Thy seruaunt still doth praye,
Alfine thy knight desireth thee,
To graunt without delaye,
A phisition with speede
His maladie to cure:
Or els oh king that he shall die,
Thereof thou maiest be sure.
To whome the king thus spake,
What greater griefe can be,
Unto a king then for to lose,
So good a knight as he.
Ah fortune that doest beare,
A double face in hood
Ne knowest thy frende ne fo, but doest
Unto them equall good.
And him thou settest on hie,
Euen him thou laiest alowe:
As to thy friend suche frendlines,
Thou showest vnto thy foe.
With weping teares he saide,
And then he foorth doth call
His Phisitions, and doth commaunde
That they go with him all,
Unto Alfine his knight,
With that Pandauola
Began to speake to one that stoode
Her by, and thus did saye.
And is it true I heare?
Is Alfine sicke also?
She called then a Phisition,
And bad him straight to goe
To him in all the haste,
And tell him this that she
Is ready nowe for to departe,
But lackes his companie.
To whome she might as mate,
With him take paine in waye:
The Phisition did thinke that she
These woordes of feare did saye.
And like a wise man then,
He aunswered by and by,
Be you content ho lady deare,
Thinke not that he will die
But if you will commaunde,
I will your will obay,
And willingly will doe the thing
That it shall please you saye.
And if that death should carpe
My vitall thread atwaine,
Your secretes I will keepe still close
Though that I should be slaine.
With that she drew her breath,
But fainting nowe and then,
Ah God (quod she) Alfyne Alfyne,
The truste of all men:
With that as men perceiue
By little streames that ronne
The place, and cause that first their course
Of water hath begonne:
Or as one might perceaue
Where eaco doth resounde,
That in that place though touching skie
It is their hollowe grounde.
So he when as he harde
Her clamor and her crie,
Knewe well in ende that such streames would
Their fountaine head discrie.
And as the man that hath
By trauell and by payne
Founde out, where as of golde there is
Some riche and costly vaine:
Doth digge and delue the more,
The ende therof to finde:
So he a conning workeman doth
Reuolue within his mynde
Whereof their wordes should ryse,
He then perceiueth plaine
The cause of grief and seketh meanes
Her woes for to restraine,
And then beginning newe
His tale to her he said,
Oh Lady, of my woordes be not
One whitte at all dismaid.
For I in ende I hope
Will fynde you for to ease,
So that my seruice may not once
Your gracious minde displease,
My frend (quod she againe)
No whit shall me displease.
What that it be, saye what you will
So it be for any ease,
And I the truth will tell,
But see you trusty be
Of all the cause and where I am
Thus vexte with malady,
To whom he aunswered,
The Gods by whome eche thing,
Was made, quighte me confounde,
And vnto ruine bring,
Euen at that instaunt, when
Your secret I bewray:
And bring my soule where furis fell
Shall it moleste I pray,
That I may with him gape
That sekes the floudeds to drinke,
And for my plague from yarning lips
The same againe may shrynke,
Or els that carping gripe,
That eates the groing harte
Of Titius, in sonder may
My faithles harte departe.
And if in hell there be
One that surmountes the reste
For breache faith, then let it all
Be iudged for my breste,
As due rewarde and eke,
If naught in hell there be,
Sufficient, then mighty Joue
Against me thus decree,
That I with those may haue
My towme, whome Joue most hie,
Did fling to ground by thonder boltes
That flew from forth the skie.
And now their toumes possesse
Where as their corps doth boyle
With fier and brymstone scalding hote,
Their corpes for to tourmoyle.
This saide he thus began,
No Phisition (quoth he)
Can minister vnto your health,
Unlesse that perfeitly
The cause of griefe he knowes,
His labour is in vaine,
And lost is all his study, for
To ease you of your payne.
Therfore of you I craue
The principall to knowe
Of all your griefe, and then I will
Some phisick therfore showe.
Your vryne doth declare
That you in deede are ill,
A cause the same doth showe also,
But not contentes my will.
For further cause I must
Of you here vnderstande,
And then I may giue medicines
To you, ende out of hande.
As when the gentill Buck
Hath take a mortall blowe,
Doth runne about to seke some ease,
So she about doth goe.
With sugered woordes to tell
Howe she at harte was prest
With greuous panges, and afterwardes
In order all rehearst.
What maladie she felt
Within her selfe, but she
Did not declare what was the cause,
Of her great maladie.
At last she cries Alfyne,
And there her voyce doth staye.
The Phisition perceiued the cause,
And thus began to saie:
Oh Lady mine take cheare,
The cause of all I finde
To be the loue of Alfyne, which
You so doe beare in mynde,
Therfore take you no thought,
For I will woorke the waye
That shall you ease, therfore your self
In quiet state doe staie.
I will to Alfyne go,
Your minde to him to breake,
And if your graces will be so
I beseeche you to speake.
With that she tournes and toste
As though she straight will die,
And thus at last to him she spake
With heuy dolefull eye.
O syr (quoth she) you knowe
The cause of all my care,
For Alfyne low it is, that I
This greuous sicknes bare.
And sithe you nowe doe knowe
What is the cause of wo,
As for my frende I doe you take,
My secretes doe not showe.
Content your selue a whyle
Quoth he, and let me worke,
To Alfyn I will straight wayse wend
To ease him of his hurte:
And afterward I will
Againe come vnto you,
And as for me, oh Lady deare,
As friend doe thinke me true,
Well then (quod she) syth that
You must be gyde, of gayne
Take here this gold the which I giue
For part reward of paine,
And sithe to him you go,
To him this ringe doe giue,
And tell him that without his loue,
I desire not to liue,
And if to doe him good,
My death could ought auaile,
To haue the same without delay,
Sure, sure, I would not faile.
This saide, the Phisition
To Alfyne straight doth goe,
Who whē he came straight to the kinge
This ioyfull newes doth showe.
That he did hope in time
His daughter well to see,
Wherof the king exceading ioyse
To Alfyne gone to be.
And telles the king that he
His disease well doth see,
And will in time without all doughte
Finde out a remedy
For him, and then he doth
Them all with harte desire
For to depart, the king and all
Doth that he doth require.
When all was foorth of dores,
He thus his tale began:
Right worthy Syr, I doe perceiue
That you are a sick man,
And sore torment with paine,
But be you of good cheare,
For from a frende of yours I haue
A message good to heare.
The worthy knight then said,
Good syer welcome to me,
And for her sake that hath you sent
Right welcome syr ye be.
With that the Phisition
Began on this same sorte,
The Gods confounde me, if my tonge
Shall forder false reporte.
Good syr (quoth he) eache thing
Obedient needes must be,
Unto the will of him that made
Those thinges, as thinges to see.
And as the hounde which is
His maisters great delight,
Unto the hare by nature made
Doth daily worke despight.
Or as the sylley doue
No greater ioye can finde
When as she in loue is macht
With one of selfe same kinde.
So mortall man though he
Be kinge and lorde of all,
Yet in this point wt him eache beast
Is to their Lorde equall,
And thus beside we see
As Cupide shaft doth fall,
So oftentimes the feruent loue
Departeth there withall.
And for because that loue
Is cause of your vnreste,
Therfore I thinke the principall
To shewe it were the best.
Oh sier said Alfyne then,
My honor doth not craue
That though my loue so feruent be,
That I the same should haue,
And if so be that I
In byrth her grace might mate,
Yet doe I thinke that worthy I
Were not for such a state
As she, but would be glad
If I were king of kinges,
Euen for her sake, to leaue my state,
And eke all royal thinges.
And if I might haue hope
To craue I could not sease,
If I were sure my sute to gaine,
No happier is the peace
That with a tound is made
When warres indured hath
Ful long thē were with me, I swere
Of knighthod by the faithe.
But out alas her witte
And iudgement sage is so,
That of my sute when I beginne
To faile, in ende I know.
Therfore maister Doctor,
I you desire and praie,
In any case of her no more
Unto me for to saye,
But let me in destres
Now end my dolefull dayes
And let me die remediles
Sithe I haue bene alwayes.
To whome the Doctor spake
And bad him quiet be,
For so he saide that somewhat might
Ease him of maladie.
And if he would a whyle
His talke giue eare vnto,
He might haue ease, and Alfyne he,
Is willing so to do.
With that he thus began,
And saide, I maruell much
That for to shew such one as you
For feare so sore should grutche,
To doe the thing wherby
To you comes all the gaine,
And it were so, why should you shrinke
To take so small a paine,
Sithe labour can not lose,
Parhappes she does to trie
Your faithfulnesse, and other whyles,
Perhappes she doth denie
To graunt you that you craue,
Because she would that ye
Should not suppose in your conceit
Her person light to be,
Therfore this would I wyshe,
That you should courage take,
And in the walles with manly hart
Should seeke a breache to make
For once the citie which
Can scarse there defence make,
Doth giue vnto the conquerer
A hope it for to take,
And where they willing are,
No treate ought to be:
The Sea to ebbe and flowe so oft
Is not constrainde we see,
Yet doth it so therfore
Of courage take some part,
And do assaie yet once againe
To breake her flinty hart.
For as the litle droppes
That oft fall from on hie,
The hardest stone with falling on,
Both thorowe weare and trie,
So she with praiers fayre,
May be obtainde I knowe,
Therfore good syr, and if you please
my counsell do folowe.
To whom Alfyne answerd,
Good syr as you do saye,
I doe intende the chaunce to proue
Without any delaye.
And for your great good will,
I giue you thankes certaine,
And if it lie in me one daye
I will rewarde your paine.
And sitting then vpright
Within his bed, he saide,
That for to prosecute his mynde,
He would not be afraide.
And geuing thankes as then
The Phisicion vnto,
He purposeth as he hath saide,
Forth with end so to doe,
The Phisition perceiued
That then he might haue time
To shewe his mynde, and thus he said,
If not committing crime,
I might my message showe,
So bould then I would be
To speake in few, to whome ye knight
Did aunswere courtously
Saie on, oh Doctour myld
With willing harte certaine
We will you heare, if to declare
That you will take the paine.
Then with a mery cheare,
On this wyse he did say:
I haue (quoth he) before I came
Haue ben that part of daie.
With faire Pandauola
The daughter of the king,
Which vnto me before I came
Hether, gaue me this ring
With this in message to
Declare vnto your grace,
That you would be of a good cheare,
She prayes in any case:
And as a token of
Her faith she this hath sent,
To you protesting that she hath
As yet no other ment,
Ne neuer tendes to doe
While life she doth possesse,
And so that you will like protest
She verely doth gesse,
As when a man hath lost
Some Juell riche of pryse,
With heuy hart and painfull mind
He ginneth for to ryse,
And so the Juell great
He seketh round about,
And neuer seaseth till that he
The Juell hath founde out.
And when that he hath founde
The same, vp to the skeyse
He liftes his handes, the Joyse whereof
Makes streames runne downe his eyes,
So plaieth Alfine nowe,
With teares he blotes his face,
And stretching out his heuy armes,
The Doctor doth imbrace.
And kissing twyse the ringe,
Upon her name doth call,
And eke beholde he feles him selfe
Reliued therewithall.
And willing with his harte
The equall will to be
Equaly macht, sithe her goodwill
To his will so did gree.
And douting nothing nowe,
He thinkes him well at ease,
Minding the Doctor for his paynes
With golde and fee to please.
Then doth the Doctor saie,
That he would also wende
Unto Pandauola, and askes
If ought that he would sende
As token vnto her,
To whiche he doth consent,
And vnto her a chaine with ring
Withall his hart hath sent.
The Doctor goes his waes,
Well rewarded for paine:
And wished that he were daily
So set a woorke againe,
Who nowe doth Alfyne loue,
But Pandauola bright,
Who is to him coequall mate
Who ioyeth nowe in light.
What payne doth Alfyne feele,
Ne all is fled away,
He of his griefe is reliued,
To ryse he doth assaie:
And taking courage bolde,
To walke he doth assaie:
And feling not him selfe at ease,
Againe on bed he laye
With ioyfull cheare I wis
He sate as any wight,
He taketh then his pen in hande,
And thus began to wrighte.
And seking for to feede
His flinging fancies so,
Purposith in some prety songe
His Ladies praise to showe.
And thus he doth beginne,
Desiring helpe and ayde
Of Musis nyne, and thus at last
With pleasaunt voyce he saies.

You Musies nyne that sisters be,
Helpe now my dolefull voyce to singe,
The prayse of her whose comly gle
Surmounteth nowe eche vitall thing,
The same whiche so Appelles sought,
At once in her is trimly wrought.

Appelles O thou happy man,
Whose daies to short were for to see
The floure that of dame nature came,
So faire, so trimme, and eke so free,
Whose shape doth passe all in the time,
Much more then snow doth passe the slime.

If thou hadst liued and sene the wight
Which now doth liue in Turky lande,
As one deuoyde of life and sight,
Before her grace thou wouldest stande,
Such wōdring would haue toke the there
Her worthy shape in minde to beare.

Pigmalion for all his arte,
So faire a peece once could not graue,
Nor if they both should take a part,
By conning so their fames to saue
Yet should they eare and not come nere
My Ladies grace that royall peare.

To whome I wishe eternall ioye,
With healthfull state and happy dayes,
And eke to passe without anoye,
These euill times and perilous seas,
And I my selfe what euer betide,
With her in shippe on them may ryde.

This done he layes him downe
Some rest on bed to take,
And afterward within an houre,
He ginneth for to wake.
The Phisition is come
Pandauola to see,
But lo, the king and all his Lordes
Within her chamber be,
To whome the Doctor ginnes
To drawe him selfe vnto,
And coming in, Pandauola
He asketh howe she doe.
To whome she aunsweres then,
The better him to see:
And of the same she asked then
Wheare he so long hath bee.
He aunswered straightwaye,
He was for to prouide
For certain things that nedes he must
For her haue in that tide,
But then she ginnes to saye
The weather hote to bee,
The Phisition that her intent
Did well perceiue and see.
And did the Lordes desire,
A while them selues to keepe
Abroade in chamber there beside,
To see if she could slepe.
The king then doth departe
And all the Lordes are gone
According to their duties,
The king to wayte vpon.
When all was foorth of doores,
The Phisition doth tell
The order of his being there,
And howe eche thing befell.
And vnto her doth giue
The tokens that were sent
By him to her, and afterwards
He showes the whole intent
Of Alfynes sicknes then,
She him desires againe,
That early on the morowe he
To come will take the payne,
To her, and then he shall
Knowe more of her intent.
To whose requeste, the Phisition
Doth thorowly consent,
And then his leaue doth take
Till time of her request:
And she her selfe doth laie her down,
And there doth take her rest.
The sunne from height of heauen
Into the sea doth fall,
And rūning through the flashing flods
Ascendeth there withall.
And being weary then
Of his iourney God wote,
He putteth out the monstrous hores
From out the chariot.
And comming now where as
Aurora hell her see,
To make the night somewhat longer,
They both agreed be:
At length Aurora doth
The bed of Titan flye,
And ginnes to shewe her cristall face
Throughout the syluer skie.
And Phebus he him selfe
His goulden head doth showe:
Lifting him selfe from out of the waues
Our orisont belowe.
And with his fyrie chaire
Is flowne into the skie
An houre long, the Phisition
Perceiueth by and by,
That time it is to go,
And foorth straightwaies he went
Unto Pandauola, and she
Unto his house hath sent,
But at the last he comes
And vnto her doth go,
Desiring that he may foorthwith
Her graces intent knowe.
To whome she straight did saye,
That he forthwith must beare
A letter vnto Alfyne, whiche
You after all shall heare.

As to the heuy wight
Tormented sore with paine,
All thinges are ioyfull that doth seeke
His tormentes to restraine.
So it is vnto me
O Alfyne, this to heare,
That life with health yu dost possesse
That art to me so deare.
Which all the gods I praye
For euer to maintayne,
And good successe in all assaies,
I wishe to the certaine
The cause why that to you
My letters I indighte
Is this, because you may suer thinke
My promyse to be right,
And that the Doctor hath
Unto your goodnes tolde,
To be the thing which I doe meane
Therof you may be bolde.
And for your sicknes lo
I rew, this thing is plaine,
But yet suppose that much more ill
Then you, I was againe.
As well my father could
Declare, and Doctor to,
Who as you know for me in deede
Hath had somewhat to doe.
And sithe the Gods doe so
Graunt our requestes to be:
This is the cause that you foorthwith
Come hether me to see,
And thereof myne intent,
The ende shall you perceiue:
And thus because of leasure I
You to your selue do leue.
Fare well therfore my knight,
Good health the Gods the sende:
And thus from the kings manor place
My minde and wryght I ende:
Fare well oh Juell deare,
Fare well my owne delight:
Fare well also of knighthoode thou
The chiefe and truest knight.

This letter she doth geue
The Phisition vnto,
And bad him that in all the haste
He should his labour doe
The same in haste to beare,
Alfyne to vnderstande:
And afterwardes to bring to her
An aunswere out of hande.
The Phisition is gone
Alfyne her knight vnto,
According to her graces wyll,
The message for to do.
The meane spase she from out
Her wery bed doth ryse,
And deckes her selfe in trimme aray
After her wonted gyse.
And walking up and downe
Within her chamber, she
Beginneth in her minde to roull
Of him the great bewty,
And doth his state compare
With Paris comly gle:
And yet within her selfe she saies,
Much fairer loe is he
Then Narsissus so faire,
Or mystus lo is he:
And by and by, she thinkes fairer
He is if there may be,
Fairer then Narsissus
Or Mystus that haue bene
The fairest and the comliest wightes,
That euer earst were seene.
At last her father comes
To see howe that she doe,
With many a Lorde and lusty knight
That come her grace vnto.
Her father, he doth aske,
If she her helth possesse:
To whome she aunsweres by and by,
For all his great richesse,
She would not feell suche paine,
As she not past eight daies
Did feele ago, but to the Gods
She gaue immortall prayse.
Her father then doth ioye,
And doth declare how that
The noble knight Alfyne, is nowe
Recouered of late
Of his disease, and doth
Sit up, and walkes about,
And saith that Alfyne would lyue,
Therof he had no doubte.
Wherto she saies Amen,
Though yet were there vnknowne
The fame then of her health abroade,
About the cities blowne.
As sone as once the health
Of her the people knowe,
On aulters of the Goddes they all
Their offringes bestowe.
And bond fyers they doe make
For ioye of this good chance:
In euery streate they mery make,
They singe, they leape, and daunce.
And as the wight that is
From death deliuered late,
So ioyeth she and father eke,
Oh thryse and happy fate.
They all this daie therfore
For holy doe suppose,
And then their myndes to eleuate
The hearmony they chose.
The Phisition approched is
Syr Alfynes house vnto,
And vnto him his message then
He ginneth for to doe.
And then declares that she
His comming would abide
Within the court of Sylluma:
Then takes he him aside,
And vnto him doth giue
The letter that he bare,
Desyring lo an aunswere straight,
For he to court would fare.
To whome Alfyne doth tell,
That he straightway would frame
An aunswere and he should forthwith
To her go beare the same.
Then to his closet he
Doth go, and penne doth take,
And on this wyse the aunswere he
Therof to her doth make.

The Gods whom we accompt
As iust and blest to be,
Preserue thy life oh Lady deare
The chiefest ioye to me,
As to a captiue naught,
Is ioye but libertie.
Euen so likewyse, there nothing is
More ioyfull vnto me,
Then thus by your goodnes
Although a captiue I,
And as it were one rescued nowe,
Once iudged for to die:
And as for demyng lo,
Unworthy I me fynde
The least good gift of your good grace
That you to me haue syn.
I thinke those famous men
That liued haue eare this,
Could not deeme other, but that ye
Are chiefest cause of blisse.
Or els I deeme that they
Would neuer vndertake
Suche perilles, as full often they
You to obtaine, doe make.
Achilles champion stoute,
What tyme in Troye he sawe
Polyxena, he did desire
To be the sonne in lawe
Of Pyramus, that king
Of Troye of renowne,
Syr Parys eke the worthiest knight,
That was in Illyon towne.
His brother Hector saue
To Grece his passage tooke:
His Aunt the faire Exiona,
Within their courtes to looke.
But being taken with
The fyry cleuing darte,
Of Helena the Queene, whose syght
Did strike him to the harte.
That maugre all their heades,
To shippe this dame he bare:
And hoisyng vp his mery sailes,
To Troye began to fare.
So if that Cupide durste
These champions stoute assayle,
What boutyd them him to resiste,
When naught they could preuayle.
To striue against the streame,
Is labour lost in vayne:
The more he striues, the more increase
His dolour and his payne.
The noble Pyramus,
Him selfe for Tysbe slew,
Because he thought that he was cause
Of breaking faith so trewe.
Thus if these did as heare,
Full oft we haue heard saye:
Then maruell not oh Lady dear,
Why that as quighte awaye,
My senses all were fled.
Sythe you doe passe them all,
Then all the reste, it doth behoue
That I should lower fall.
And that you haue your health,
I ioye therof to heare,
The which I praie the Gods to holde
Full many daies and yeare.
If life or death you should
Commaunde, I would obey:
Be life or death, or what thing els,
If that it please you say.
And whyle that life this corps
Should full inioye and haue:
I am the knight that shall performe
What thing your grace shall craue.
And here I bynd me to
Your grace, your man to be
At all assaye without delay
To doe that pleaseth ye,
Thus here I take my leue,
Desiring Gods to sende
The wyshed ioyes that we desire,
Our griefes to make an ende.

This done, the letter he
Unto the Doctor bringes,
Desiring that the Doctor would
Before all other thinges,
Deliuer that his deede
Unto her graces hande.
The Phisition doth straight departe,
He will no lenger stande
With him to talke, but goes
Awaye from him apace,
And then within a whyle he is
Ariued in the place
Of Syluma the king,
And forward straight doth goe
Unto the faire Pandauola,
His message for to showe.
And coming in where as
The Lordes a daunsing be,
He makes a signe, the which thing lo,
Perceiued soone had she:
And from her place doth ryse,
Taking him by the hande,
Desiring him, that she might there
His message vnderstande.
The letter foorth he drawes
And giues it her vnto,
And saith that Alfyne is preste
Her bidding for to doe.
With that he goes awaye,
And saieth then that he,
At one time or an other, will
Returne her grace to see.
And now the pleasaunt dewe
Of heauen beginnes to fall
And eache man loe, his reste to take
Perswadeth there withall.
The syluer skye of hew
The darkesome shades of night
Doth couer cleane the sunne and daye
Descended out of sight,
And glistring starres do decke
The pole of heauen so hie,
And nature ginnes her rest to craue
With heuy pensiue eye.
Thus then Pandauola
Her rest to take doth go,
And wisheth that Alfyne her knight
Weare there so none might knowe.
She roules, she tournes, she tosse,
With dreaming often, to
One while she thinketh on their loue
An other while to doe.
Some prety feate so that
They their desire may haue,
An other whyle she counteth on
Her honor for to saue.
Thus on this wyse she spendes,
And driues the night awaye,
Untill such tyme as Phebus did
His banner foorth displaye,
With clearsome light aboue,
Our Horisonte in east.
And with his praunsing horse drewe foorth
His chaire into the weste.
Then Alfyne comes vnto
The court of Sylewma,
And enters into the chamber
Of fayre Pandauola,
Who when she sawe, then straight
With stretched paulmes awid
She giues the Gods most harty thankes,
That so for her prouide.
And then about his necke
Her gentill armes she caste,
With kissing swete, a thousand foulde
She welcomes him at last.
And there he doth abide
With her his Lady bright,
His life, his health, his ioye, his trust,
And eke his hartes delight.
Unto the king they go,
And he in chamber is,
Who for to welcome Alfyne, doth
With frendly hart him kisse:
And eke Pandauola:
Whose kisses were more swete
Then fathers were, Alfyne her knight
Againe with kisse doth grete.
Then downe to meate they go,
For dinner drewe full nie, ioyfull
So they consumde that ioyfull daie
With pleasaunt hermony.
But Alfyne and the mayde,
(The dinner being done)
Unto their chamber richely decte,
To talke are thether gone.
Thus haue they past the daye,
And Alfyne sees that night
Is come, for to departe as then,
He sheweth that it is right.
But lo Pandauola,
This parting ill doth take,
And doth desire him that he will
As then his soiorne y make.
But he desiring lo
Paredon, doth her denie,
(For those his wordes) and sayeth more,
Her father he will trie,
As concerning the thing
That they haue greede upon,
They take their leaue and Alfine he
Unto his place is gone,
The gliding starres perswades
Eche thing vnto his reste
And darkesome shades the pole of heauen
Do compas to the west,
And pleasaunt sleape doth creepe
By stealth into their eies,
In meane while the golden pole
Of heauen about earth flies,
And gilding starres doe fall,
Then shone Aurora cleare,
And Phebus bright with glistring beames,
Unto vs he doth appeare.
Then Alfyne doth arise,
And to the king doth go,
In purpose of the king the ende
Of his intente to knowe,
Who when he comes he gretes
The king likewyse againe,
Doth welcome him and geues him thankes,
That he would take the paine
As to come him to see,
With that a knight full faire
Came to the king and said, that he
For this cause did repaire,
To tell vnto his grace
Some newes, wherby he might
Some helpe forsee, for him and his,
As due it was be tright.
To whom the king commaund,
That he without all shame
Should tell his tale, and said that he
Therfore should haue no blame.
The knight then thus begonne,
Oh king, the Christian knightes
Inuade thy lande, and daily yet
They worke vs more despights.
The Spasyardes doe possesse
Almost thy countrey rounde,
And Hungarians doe like wise
Thy people quight confounde,
Helpe therefore nowe O king
With spede we thee doe praye,
Or els they quighte will ouerronne
This land without delaye.
For now from this same place
They be but iourneyes small.
Helpe nowe oh king, sith we as nowe
For helpe to thee doe call.
This saide, the king straght way
Doth for his counsell call,
The which doe come, and then they do
Enter the counsell hall.
When they were set, Alfyne
Doth foorth his matter breake,
But lo, the king doth him commaunde
No woorde therof to speake.
And thus he saide, syr knyght,
You knowe the royall rase
Of Pandauola, and she ought
In suche a kinde of case
For to be matcht with one
Whose birth is somewhat like:
Therfore syr Alfyne wey this well,
And yours is farre to seke.
Therfore your selfe content,
For I doe tell you plaine,
She shall not yet be maried,
Yet muse I more againe,
Sithe that you being but
A Duke of lynage poore,
Should seme to craue in mariage
So ryche and fayre a flowre.
When as syr Flaccus, who
Is next me in this lande,
Will not presume her for to craue:
Therfore thus it shall stande,
That when a time shall come
Better we will prouide
For her then so, therfore (quoth he)
Set this your talke aside.
And then he doth declare
The fine of this intent,
As concerning the warres in hand,
And this was their iudgement:
That Syluma him selfe,
An army great should make,
And shall descende in battell and
Should Alfyne with him take.
So thus they haue agreed,
And there the counsell brake,
And Alfyne he doth from the king
His iourney forthwith take
Unto the chamber of
The daughter of the king,
And vnto her recounteth all
Of euery kinde of thyng
That hath bene saide or done,
Within the chamber lo.
She vnderstandeth euery white,
Alfyne then thence doth go
With heuy cheare and then
Pandauola doth wayle,
And afterwards her maydes she calles
With them for to counsaile
Wherof one Palyne,
Suche one as she may truste
She calles to her, and so her mynde
At last she hath discuste
From point to point, and then
For counsell she doth craue,
To whome Palyne aunswered,
This sorte (quoth she) I haue
Oh noble Lady deare,
Byne trusted nowe ear this
About suche cures, wherfore I hope
That nowe I shall not misse,
But will you ease certaine,
Of good chere therefore be,
And for a tyme let fortune woorke,
The ende your grace shall see
To be profitable,
When he at warres hath bene,
We can not tell but happely
May chaunce some kinde of thing,
Or iust deserte of his
Upon our enemies tride,
That may vnto this euill chaunce
Some better waye prouide.
Therfore my counsell is,
That he with willing mynde
Shall doe the thing what that it be
To him that is a synde.
Therby full soone he may
Obtaine your fathers grace
To be his friende, more faithfull then
He nowe is in this case.
And when some noble feate
He shall haue complishd so,
A daily friende the king will be
To him, this well you knowe.
Then may he seme to craue,
And also iustly may
You, to obtaine be the bolder
Your father for to praye.
Therfore my counsell is,
That you with spede and might
Shall him perswade for to be stoute
According vnto right,
Your fathers foes to quell
And true subiect to be,
Regarding not your fathers woordes,
But his faith and dutie.
The daye is come, and they
Their armies great haue chose,
And Alfyne with his armie, he
Unto the Palayse goes
Of Syluma the king,
And mousters him before
With colour pale and angry harte,
Much like vnto a Bore.
He castes his holowe eyes
Now here, now there about,
With frothing lips his dedly thoughtes
With colour black flye out.
The king the mouster sees,
For Alfyne he doth sende,
And doth cōmaunde that he forthwith
Unto the fielde do wende,
The Christians they prepare
Defence with spede to make,
And Alfyne he beginnes forthwith
Thether his waye to take.
The armie of the king
Is ready in this tide,
The which to Flaccus he committes
Unto the fielde to guyde,
But yet before they go,
Alfyne his leaue doth take
Of Pandauola bright and shene,
His loue, his deare, his mate,
To whome she on this sorte
Began her tale to tell,
(Quoth she) O Alfyne this my deare,
You know full sure and well,
That when by prowes great
Some thing you shall achiefe,
Then bouldly may you aske i wys
Me for to be your wife.
Therfore my counsell is
All rancor layde asyde,
That you my fathers heastes to doe
With spede shall runne and ryde.
Neither that you should take
Suche griefe, of that he saide,
Be of good chere, fortune hath now
Her worste at first displayde.
Then rounde about his necke
Her gentell armes she caste
With teares she brwes her gētil chekes
And takes her leue at last.
Now Alfyne and the king
Unto the army goes,
The king the conduct of the warre
Nowe vnto Alfyne shoes,
And him exhortes to striue
Victorie to obtaine,
And then he sayes in end he shall
Him well rewarde for paine
This wordes to Alfyne gaue
Some hope his praye to wynne,
For ioye whereof his heauy harte
Reioyseth now within.
The Sunne hath entryd now
The waues that shine so bright
And Luna spreades her beames abroade,
Now procheth on the night.
The king and Alfyne they
Unto the campe are come,
Before the waues haue couered
The golden shining Sunne.
The Souldiers busy be
Their campe to fortifie,
Some go to reste, the glistring starres
Fulfilling all the skie.
The night is gone and all,
The armie plaine Apeares:
Then all the Christians foorthwith
Their standardes tall vpreares.
The Turke is nothing slowe
The Christians to mete,
With chrayshing swoordes, the other they
With lusty bloes do grete
Upon the name of Christe
Full loude the Christians call,
The Turkes vnto their Mahomet
With prayer ginnes to fall.
The Turkes haue lost that daye,
Of men a nomber great,
But yet for that they do not seace,
The Christians heads to beate.
The gonstones through the ayre
With dolefull voyce doe crie,
And fautall arrowes through the cloud
Into eche armie flie.
And here in fleshe it lightes,
And geues a deadly wounde:
And in an other parte there is
A thousand brought to grounde.
The battaile standes in doubt,
At last the Christians, they
Haue wonne the fielde, the Turkes apase
From thence doe flie awaye.
Thus pleased God to graunte
The victorie as then
By force so gotte, end for to fall
Unto the Christen men.
The night departed hath
The armies for that tide,
And misty cloudes eche others campe
Asunder doth deuide.
When that the daie was come,
And Phebus shone full bright,
The Turke beginnes to incourage
His souldiers for to fight.
And thus to them he saies
With cruell angry cheare:
As by the wordes that he did speake,
May very well appeare.
Oh catiues quight undone,
You traytours to your king:
You enemies to Mahomet,
What got you by flying.
This other daie nowe paste
Before your enemies hande,
And for your cowardnes durst not
Before their swordes to stande.
Why should not they possesse
That earst our fathers wanne,
And why, haue they not quite destroide
Of vs both childe and man?
What could their force withstande
When you began to flie.
Thinke you that stones for our quarel
With them would seme to trie.
The honour of our name,
Through you is gone and lost
The fame of oure olde aunceters
Is topsy touruy toste
By Mahomete quoth he)
Nothing doth make me muse,
That then to spoyle our tentes also,
The Christians did refuse,
But that I thinke some god
Our ruen did perpende
And therfore would not suffer them
Their fury to extende.
With that he paused awhyle,
His souldiers full bould
Did giue a showte as heauē and earth
As then together would
The whiche he marked well,
My thinkes (quoth he) I see
The hartes and willes of men which woulde
Not so accompted be,
But that they would reuenge
Their shame committed so
They crie, desiring of the king
That they to fielde may go,
And then he should perceiue
Their hartes and willes the more,
How they would reuenge the iniurie
Done so the daie before.
Then saide the king, sithe that
Amendes you tende to make,
I am content forthwith the fielde
Against our foes to take.
Then to the fielde he goes
With all his Turkishe trayne:
The Christians forthwith also
Descende vnto the playne,
The battaile then beginnes
Full fiers on ether side.
The Christians striue the bodies of
The Turkes for to deuide.
But Alfyne he doth so
With sworde the Christians checke,
That some he makes lower to be
By head and eke the necke.
Then when the Christian kynges
On that sorte so beholde.
Euen with a winge of horsemen they
Syr Alfyne doe infolde.
There they him prisoner take
And led him to their tent,
The Turkes ye while to win the felde
Or els to die are bent.
Thus standes it all the daye
The Christians are full faine
For to retire they hauing so
Almost their armie slaine.
Then Syleuma the king
Unto their tentes doth go,
And by and by, a messenger
Comes and to him doth showe,
Howe that the noble Duke
Syr Alfyne him doth praye,
In all the haste that eare he came,
His raunsome he will paye,
And also this beside,
The Christians require
To haue a peace confirmde of him,
For the space of three yeare.
When nues did come to him
That Alfyne did abide
With the Christians as prysoner,
He calles his Lordes asyde.
And asked them what they
Would counsell him to doe:
To whom syr Flaccus answered
That sithe it came so to
Passe, as he looked for,
He thought it best, that he
Should as a prisoner with those
Of Christendome still be,
For he that would your grace
To them haue deliuere,
In my iudgement he ought not now
So to be raunsomed.
But for the peace he saide,
He thought it good to be
Concluded vpon for so small time,
As farre as he could see.
And lastly ye shall fynde
Full well (quoth he) I knowe,
That he for a litle or naught
Againe shall be let go.
That I haue saide (quoth he)
I will proue it to ende,
Therfore (quoth he) oh king you may
If please you answere sende
Unto the Christians, that
Sithe that they peace doe craue,
You are content that for three yeares,
A peace that they shall haue.
The counsell all doe like
This Flaccus counsell so
That thereupon they doe agree
Before the truthe they knowe.
The messenger they call
His message to receiue:
Who hath the peace graunted to him,
And so they take their leaue.
But as for Alfyne, he
Should not his raunsome haue,
And with this floute he bad that they
That iuell riche should saue.
The messenger is gone
The Christen kinges vnto:
When he was come, he thus at last
His message gan to doe.
The kinges and Lordes once set,
His tale he thus began:
(Quoth he) I haue most royall Lordes
As farre forth as I can
Requested of the king
A peace for three yeares space,
The whiche he hath graunted to vs,
But yet thus saith his grace,
That as for Alfyne he
Sall still your prisoner be.
And this condicion that
You all his lande must leaue
Within eight monethes vpon this same
Your peace ye must receiue:
This message being done,
They straight them sport and playe
With ioye and myrth, and some of them
To Alfyne take their waye,
Who mourning ginnes to wayle,
And thus at last he saide.
And hath my Lege denied me
My raunsome to be payde,
I some time was a Prince,
But now a captiue vile,
A slaue, a drudge, a beaste, no man,
But drouen to exile.
Oh would (quoth he) to God
My Lady fayre and bright,
Did knowe my case how my true hart
Hath brought me this despight.
Oh Sylewma (quoth he)
Haue I so trusty bene
To thee and thine, and yet by me
Thou settest not a pinne.
These Christian knightes I know,
Would haue sone raunsomed me
If theirs I were and had bene tooke
Of thee mine enemy.
Muche gentlier be these knightes
Unto me, I doe fynde,
Then thou oh Tyraunt fierse and fell
Unto me in this kinde,
Wherfore I praie the Goddes
Some good lucke then to sende.
That once they may of thee and me,
Both see some euill ende:
Fare well my Lady deare
Pandauola the fayre,
That art to Sylewma the king,
His daughter and his ayre:
Fare well I saye, for now
Thou shalt some other haue.
And Flaccus now myne enemy,
May boldly seeme to craue
Thee of thy father now,
I can not him withholde,
For lo, the king doth not esteme
Me worth a strawe of golde.
Oh knightes, alfyne beholde
For Ladies bright and shene
That wonted was with you to iuste
With speres both sharpe and kend
Lo, now in chaines he lies
Fast bounde, both foote and hande:
Oh Pandauola that for thee
With Flaccus oft did stande.
But thus why doe I wayle,
Come death and ende my dayes,
Sythe that vyle wretche I can not be
Relieued, by no wayse.
But yet would God my harte
She might inioye and haue
Before my corps intumyld were
Or put into the graue.
This saide, he wepes and wayles,
And so his talke did ende,
The whiche the Christian kinges haue heard
And for him straight did sende.
The king of Spaine doth rewe,
The king of Hungary
Doth also wepe to heare how he
Lamentes his destenie,
At last Alfyne is come
Before them, and they all
Of him inquier what he would doe,
If so it might befall,
That if so be at libertie
As then that he should wende,
Wherto he aunswered, that this
As then he did intende
That is, he neuer would
Take sworde in hand to fight
Against the Christians, but that he
With all his power and might
Would them defende he saide.
Wheron they doe agree,
That without any raunsome he
Forthwith shall losid be
To go where that he please,
Or els there to abide.
They gaue him eke a lusty steade
To Uardam for to ryde.
Where after foure monethes space
Unto the court he came
Of Syleuma which then was held
Within the towne Uardam,
But when he would haue prochte
Syleumase court vnto,
He was forbode by the porter
So on that sorte to doe.
Wherfore he doth departe
Unto his mansion place,
To whome a messenger doth come
From old Syleumas grace.
With this message in hande,
That he his house should holde
Untill he knewe farther, and not
Once for to be so bolde
As once abrode to go
From that his house certaine.
The messenger doth then departe
Unto the king againe,
And Alfyne he this while
As the rewarde of payne,
Unto the Christian Kinges hath sent
Twelue cartes lodid with graine,
Which thing when Flaccus knew,
He forward straight doth goe
To Syluma the king, and he
Therof his grace doth showe.
Then Syleuma doth sende
His messenger to areste
Syr Alfyne, of such treason as
Before it is exprest.
The messenger hath done
He was commaunded to do,
The officers syr Alfyne bringes
King Syleuma vnto.
Who when he comes, then straight
The king to iudgement goes,
And Flaccus he doth enter in
And the accusement showes,
Whiche Alfyne doth denie:
But Flaccus doth desire
According to the lawe of armes,
To trie it with his speare.
Wherto the king doth graunt,
The our of fight is set:
And now the Lordes and Ladies do
About their places get,
The houre being come,
The king with all his trayne,
Are come and take their place
In middest vpon the playne.
Then Flaccus commeth in,
The king once being set,
And then the Harrauldes are cōmaūde
Alfyne to fielde to fette:
Pandauola she sittes
Hard by her fathers side,
The Harauldes are come, and Alfyne
Into the fielde doth ryde
To Syluma the king:
Flaccus doth come also,
And there the accusation
Againe Flaccus doth showe,
For proufe wherof he is
Contented for to trie
The combate, but Alfyne
Syr Flaccus wordes deny,
And saieth that he will
According vnto right,
Proue yt he hath spoke al these wordes
Of falshod and despight.
The Harraulde then beginne
Therof to make the crie,
With speare in hand like lusty knights
They runne immediatly,
When speares were broke, they then
Vnto their swordes them take
And laiyng on such lode, they teache
A medicine for head ake.
Suche bloues Alfyne doth deale
As he that had bene there
Would not haue thought, that Flaccus shold
So many bloues haue beare.
But lo as thinges are set
So oftentimes they fall,
Their swordes are broke, and they
For other swordes doe call,
The which when that they haue,
With courage bould and stoute,
The manly knightes vnequall macht,
Doe lay them rounde about,
But Flaccus to Alfyne
Hath such a blowe him lent,
That maugre all his force, to grounde
He Alfyne downe hath sent:
But Alfine being quicke,
He getteth vp againe,
And such a blowe Flaccus he lent,
That Flaccus he hath slaine.
Which when the king behelde
With heauy dolefull cheare,
He parted thence, much like a man
Full mad he did appeare.
Then Alfyne did commaunde
His body to be drawne
Throughout the citie round about
According to the lawe.
Then Alfyne to the court
Of Syleuma doth come,
And Pandauola in her armes
Her Alfyne hath up num
And kisseth him full ofte,
With geuing thankes certaine
Unto her God, that so Alfyne
His enemy hath slaine.
The king with ier possest,
No lenger can abyde,
But drawes his fatall blade, and it
In Alfynes throte doth hyde.
Whiche when his daughter sawe
That murdring cruell dede,
She tooke him vp, and euen then
She to her father yede,
Desiring him that she,
For all his raging spytes
Might geue the body of buriyng,
The solome kinde of rightes.
To which thing he doth graunte,
But saies, she shall not be
At the buriall, but she should stande
Where as she might it see.
So straight a fyer great
Under the toure was made
Where she did stande, and Alfyne
Into the fyer was layde.
When she behelde this corps,
Alfyne she loude doth call,
And sodainly from of the toure
She flong her selfe withall,
Disdaining lo that so
Her father did presume.
And there in fyer two louers
Did quight and cleane consume.
The Ladies they runne in
Her father for to tell
Who when he harde of his daughter
What mischiefe had befell:
Upon his fatall sworde,
He fell and so was slayne,
Not leauing any issue there
As king for to remayne.

De amore inter Amicos.

As loue is chiefest thing
That common is to all,
So faithfulnes is rariste thing
That to louers doth fall.
For many frendes there be
In outwarde kinde of showe,
But faithfull friendes as wyse men saye
There is a very fewe,
Suche friendes I meane, as will
Not hault with hound nor hare
But for the profite of his friend,
Nor friend ne foe will spare.
Nor he who heate nor colde,
Ne tempest, wynde, nor rayne,
Can cause to flie but in all stormes
Still constant doth remaine.
Such one a Juell is,
Excelling golde and fee:
And he is riche that hath a friende
So sure a one as he.
The gredy yauning iause
Of vipers flattring taile
Do what they cā, against such friendes
Can naught at all preuaile.

In blanditia adulatorum.

As he is blest in deede
That hath a trusty friende,
So contrary is he on whome
Flatterers doe much intende.
For as the trusty friende
No paine can call awaye,
Euen so doe flatterers flie apase
When that no more they may
Obteine that they desire,
But in his paine and griefe
They do him leaue whē their frēdship
Of ioyse should be the chiefe.
But as the Scorpion doth
As those that trye doe knowe
No hurt at all, so long as you
In quiet let them go.
But when she once shall feele
You, to disturbe her ease
Neuer so smal then straight she seekes
Againe you to displease:
By pouring out of her
Her poysoned styng, wherby
She stynges so sore, that out of hande
The party stong shall die,
Unlesse that the selfe same
That stong him so before
Be slayne, his health againe
He cannot get no more.
And yet it standes in doubte
Though that the same they get,
If that the Scorpion to the hart
The poyson so hath set.
Hermes, a flattring man
Doth lyken well certaine
Unto a Camell, which saue white,
All colours doth retaine.
And as he wantes the same,
So like wyse may we see
A flatterer, all pointes to haue
Saue only honestie.
No dagger strikes more depe,
Nor Uiper poysones so
As doth the flattring parasite,
A swete destroiyng to.
Therfore if you be wyse,
Learne to escewe the snare
Of flatterers, or els perhaps
They make your purse full bare.
And warning take by him
That therof feeles the payne
If you be wyse, and from such men
Your footesteps do you frame.