The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes A literal reprint of the earliest complete copy (1517) with variant readings from the editions of 1509, 1554, and 1555 together with introduction notes, glossary, and indexes: By William Edward Mead |
 |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIIII. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
How he departed frome kynge Melyzyus with his
grehoūdes and attendance his varlet and met with
false reporte / that chaunged his name to Godfraye go bylyue. Ca. xxix.
|
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLII. |
| XLIIII. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
 |
How he departed frome kynge Melyzyus with his
grehoūdes and attendance his varlet and met with
false reporte / that chaunged his name to Godfraye go bylyue. Ca. xxix.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes |  |
XXIX. How he departed frome kynge Melyzyus with his grehoūdes and attendance his varlet and met with false reporte / that chaunged his name to Godfraye go bylyue. Ca. xxix.
And so forth we rode tyll we sawe a ferre
To vs came rydynge on a lytell nagge
A folysshe dwarfe nothynge for the warre
With a hood / a bell / a foxtayle / and a bagge
In a pyed cote he rode brygge a bragge
And whan that he vnto vs drewe nye
I behelde his body and his vysnamye
To vs came rydynge on a lytell nagge
A folysshe dwarfe nothynge for the warre
With a hood / a bell / a foxtayle / and a bagge
In a pyed cote he rode brygge a bragge
134
I behelde his body and his vysnamye
His hede was grete betled was his browes
His eyen holowe / and his nose croked
His bryes brystled truely lyke a sowes
His chekes here / and god wote he loked
Full lyke an ape / here and there he toted
With a pyed berde / and hangynge lyppes grete
And euery tothe as blacke as ony gete
His eyen holowe / and his nose croked
His bryes brystled truely lyke a sowes
His chekes here / and god wote he loked
Full lyke an ape / here and there he toted
With a pyed berde / and hangynge lyppes grete
And euery tothe as blacke as ony gete
His necke shorte his sholders stode awry
His brest fatte and bolne in the wast
His armes grete with fyngers crokedly
His legges kewed he rode to me fast
Full lyke a patron to be shaped in hast
Good euen he sayd and haue good day
Yf that it lyke you for to ryde meryly
His brest fatte and bolne in the wast
His armes grete with fyngers crokedly
His legges kewed he rode to me fast
Full lyke a patron to be shaped in hast
Good euen he sayd and haue good day
Yf that it lyke you for to ryde meryly
Welcome I sayd I pray the now tell
Me what thou art and where thou doost dwell
Sotheych quod he whan I cham in kent
At home I cham though I be hyther sent
I cham a gentylman of moche noble kynne
Though Iche be cladde in a knaues skynne
For ther was one called peter prate fast
Me what thou art and where thou doost dwell
Sotheych quod he whan I cham in kent
At home I cham though I be hyther sent
I cham a gentylman of moche noble kynne
Though Iche be cladde in a knaues skynne
For ther was one called peter prate fast
That in all his lyfe spake no worde in wast
He wedde a wyfe that was called maude
I trowe quod I she was a gorgyous baude
Thou lyest quod he she was gentyll and good
She gaue her husbande many a furde hode
And at his melys without ony mys
He wedde a wyfe that was called maude
I trowe quod I she was a gorgyous baude
Thou lyest quod he she was gentyll and good
She gaue her husbande many a furde hode
And at his melys without ony mys
135
She wolde hym serue in clenly wyse ywys
God loue her soule as she loued clennes
And kepe her dysshes from all foulnes
Whan she lacketh cloutes without ony fayle
She wyped her dysshes with her dogges tayle
And they had yssue sym sadle gander
That for a wyfe in all the worlde dyde wander
Tyll at the last in the wynters nyght
By temmys he sayled and aryued a ryght
Amonge the nunnes of the grene cote
He wente to lande out of his prety bote
And wedde there one that was comen a newe
He thought her stable and faythfull and trewe
Her name was Betres that so clenly was
That no fylthe by her in ony wyse sholde pas
For in her lyfe that ony man coude spy
She let no ferte nor yet fyst truely
And bytwene them bothe they dyde gete a sone
Whiche was my fader that in Kent dyde wone
His name was dauy dronken nole
He neuer dranke but in a fayre blacke boule
He toke a wyfe that was very fayre
And gate me on her for to be his ayre
Her name was alyson that loued nought elles
But euer more to rynge her blacke belles
Now are they deed all so mote I well thryue
Excepte my selfe Godfrey gobylyue
Whiche rode aboute a wyse me to seke
But I can fynde none that is good and meke
For all are shrewes in the worlde aboute
I coude neuer mete with none other route
For some deuylles wyll theyr husbondes bete
And tho that can not they wyll neuer-lete
Theyr tonges cease but gyue thre wordes for one
Fy on them all I wyll of them haue none
Who loueth ony for to make hym sadde
I wene that he become wors than madde
They are not stedfast nothynge in theyr mynde
But alway tornynge lyke a blast of wynde
For lete a man loue them neuer so wele
They wyll hym loue agayne neuer a dele
For though a man all his lyfe certayne
Vnto her sue to haue release of payne
And at the last she on hym do rewe
Yf by fortune there come an other newe
The fyrst shall be clene out of her fauoure
Recorde of Creseyd and of Troylus the doloure
They are so subtyll and so false of kynde
There can no man wade beyonde theyr mynde
God loue her soule as she loued clennes
And kepe her dysshes from all foulnes
Whan she lacketh cloutes without ony fayle
She wyped her dysshes with her dogges tayle
And they had yssue sym sadle gander
That for a wyfe in all the worlde dyde wander
Tyll at the last in the wynters nyght
By temmys he sayled and aryued a ryght
Amonge the nunnes of the grene cote
He wente to lande out of his prety bote
And wedde there one that was comen a newe
He thought her stable and faythfull and trewe
Her name was Betres that so clenly was
That no fylthe by her in ony wyse sholde pas
For in her lyfe that ony man coude spy
She let no ferte nor yet fyst truely
And bytwene them bothe they dyde gete a sone
Whiche was my fader that in Kent dyde wone
His name was dauy dronken nole
He neuer dranke but in a fayre blacke boule
He toke a wyfe that was very fayre
And gate me on her for to be his ayre
Her name was alyson that loued nought elles
But euer more to rynge her blacke belles
Now are they deed all so mote I well thryue
Excepte my selfe Godfrey gobylyue
Whiche rode aboute a wyse me to seke
But I can fynde none that is good and meke
For all are shrewes in the worlde aboute
I coude neuer mete with none other route
For some deuylles wyll theyr husbondes bete
And tho that can not they wyll neuer-lete
136
Fy on them all I wyll of them haue none
Who loueth ony for to make hym sadde
I wene that he become wors than madde
They are not stedfast nothynge in theyr mynde
But alway tornynge lyke a blast of wynde
For lete a man loue them neuer so wele
They wyll hym loue agayne neuer a dele
For though a man all his lyfe certayne
Vnto her sue to haue release of payne
And at the last she on hym do rewe
Yf by fortune there come an other newe
The fyrst shall be clene out of her fauoure
Recorde of Creseyd and of Troylus the doloure
They are so subtyll and so false of kynde
There can no man wade beyonde theyr mynde
Was not Arystotle for all his clergy
For a woman rapt in loue so meruaylously
That all his connynge he had sone forgoten
This vnhappy loue had his mynde so broken
That euermore the salte teres downe hayled
Whan the chaunce of loue he hymselfe bewayled
Aferde he was of the true loue to breke
For saynge nay whan he therof sholde speke
Tyll of constraynt of wofull heuynes
For to haue remedy of his sore sekenes
Whan he her spyed ryght secrete alone
Vnto her he wente and made all his mone
Alas he sayd the cause of my wo
Myn onely lady and maystres also
Whose goodly beaute hath my herte enrached
With feruent loue and fyry lemes entached
Wherfore take pyte of the paynfull sorowe
Of me your seruaunt bothe euen and morowe
She stode ryght styll and herde what he sayd
Alas quod she be ye nomore dysmayde
For I am contente to fulfyll your wyll
In euery maner be it good or yll
Of this condycyon that ye shall release
Me fyrst of wo and of my grete dystres
For I my selfe haue thoughte many a day
To you to speke / but for fere of a nay
I durst neuer of the mater meue
Vnto your persone leest it sholde you greue
Nay nay quod he with all my hole entente
I shall obey to your commaundemente
Well than quod she I shall you now tell
How the case stondeth truely euerydell
For you knowe well that some women do longe
After nyce thynges be it ryght or wronge
Ryght so must I vpon your backe now ryde
In your mouthe also a brydle you to guyde
And so a brydle she put in his mouthe
Vpon his backe she rode bothe northe and southe
Aboute a chambre as some cherkes wene
Of many persones it was openly sene
Lo what is loue that can so sore blynde
A phylosophre to brynge hym out of kynde
For loue dothe pas ony maner of thynge
It is harde and preuy in werkynge
So on the grounde Arystotle crepte
And in his tethe she longe the brydle kepte
Tyll she therof had ynougher fyll
And yet for this he neuer had his wyll
She dyde nothynge but for to mocke and scorne
This true louer whiche was for loue forlorne
But whan he knewe the poynt of the case
The fyry angre dyde his herte enbrace
That he hym selfe dyde anone well knowe
His anger dyde his loue so ouerthrowe
And ryght anone as some poetes wryte
He the grete mockage dyde her well acquyte.
For a woman rapt in loue so meruaylously
That all his connynge he had sone forgoten
This vnhappy loue had his mynde so broken
That euermore the salte teres downe hayled
Whan the chaunce of loue he hymselfe bewayled
Aferde he was of the true loue to breke
For saynge nay whan he therof sholde speke
Tyll of constraynt of wofull heuynes
For to haue remedy of his sore sekenes
Whan he her spyed ryght secrete alone
Vnto her he wente and made all his mone
Alas he sayd the cause of my wo
Myn onely lady and maystres also
Whose goodly beaute hath my herte enrached
With feruent loue and fyry lemes entached
Wherfore take pyte of the paynfull sorowe
137
She stode ryght styll and herde what he sayd
Alas quod she be ye nomore dysmayde
For I am contente to fulfyll your wyll
In euery maner be it good or yll
Of this condycyon that ye shall release
Me fyrst of wo and of my grete dystres
For I my selfe haue thoughte many a day
To you to speke / but for fere of a nay
I durst neuer of the mater meue
Vnto your persone leest it sholde you greue
Nay nay quod he with all my hole entente
I shall obey to your commaundemente
Well than quod she I shall you now tell
How the case stondeth truely euerydell
For you knowe well that some women do longe
After nyce thynges be it ryght or wronge
Ryght so must I vpon your backe now ryde
In your mouthe also a brydle you to guyde
And so a brydle she put in his mouthe
Vpon his backe she rode bothe northe and southe
Aboute a chambre as some cherkes wene
Of many persones it was openly sene
Lo what is loue that can so sore blynde
A phylosophre to brynge hym out of kynde
For loue dothe pas ony maner of thynge
It is harde and preuy in werkynge
So on the grounde Arystotle crepte
And in his tethe she longe the brydle kepte
Tyll she therof had ynougher fyll
And yet for this he neuer had his wyll
She dyde nothynge but for to mocke and scorne
138
But whan he knewe the poynt of the case
The fyry angre dyde his herte enbrace
That he hym selfe dyde anone well knowe
His anger dyde his loue so ouerthrowe
And ryght anone as some poetes wryte
He the grete mockage dyde her well acquyte.
Dyde not a woman the famous Vyrgyle
By her grete fraude full craftely begyle
For on a day for his owne dysporte
To the courte of Rome he gan to resporte
Amonge the ladyes the tyme for to passe
Tyll at the last lyke Phebus in the glasse
So dyde a lady with her beaute clere
Shyne through his herte with suche loue so dere
Than of grete force he must nedes obey
She of his mynde bare bothe the locke and kay
So was his herte sette vpon a fyre
With feruent loue to attayne his desyre
She had hym caught in suche a wyly snare
Grete was his payne and moche more his care
To fynde a tyme whan it sholde be meued
To her of loue and he nothynge repreued
Thus euery day by ymagynacyon
In his mynde was suche perturbacyon
And at the laste he had founde a tyme
Hym thought to speke and vnto hym no cryme
Mercy lady now in all humble wyse
To her he sayd for yf ye me dyspyse
So hath your beaute my true herte arayde
It is no meruayle though I be afrayde
To you to speke yf that you deny
My purpose / truely I am marde vtterly
So do I loue you with all my herte entere
With inwarde care I by your beauty dere
I must abyde with all my hole entent
Of lyfe or dethe your onely Iugement
With fayned eres of perfyte audyence
She dyde hym here gyuynge this sentence
Vyrgyll she sayd I wolde fayne you ease
Of your trouble and of your grete dysease
But I wote not how that it sholde be
Without tournynge vs to grete dyshoneste
Yf it be knowen / than bothe you and I
Shall by reheyted at full shamefully
But what for that I haue me bethought
A praty crafte by me shall be wrought
Ye knowe my chambre Ioyneth to a wall
Beynge ryght hygh and a wyndowe withall
Soone at nyght whan all folke be at reste
I shall take a basket as me thynketh beste
And therto I shall a longe corde well tye
And frome the wyndowe lete it downe pryuelye
Ryght so whan it is adowne on the grounde
Ye may well entre in it bothe hole and sounde
And my two maydens the whiche secrete be
Shall anone helpe to hale you vp with me
Lo in this wyse you may haue ryght well
Your owne desyre in shorte space euery dell
At a .xj. of clocke in the nyght so derke
They dede appoynt for to fulfyll this werke
He often thanked her grete gentylnes
And so departed with grete gladnes
And so he wente vnto his study
Passynge the tyme hym selfe full merely
Tyll that the cloke dyde stryke aleuen
Than to the wall he wente full euen
And founde the basket at the grounde a redy
And entred into it full sodaynly
Waggynge the rope whiche the lady espyed
Whiche to the wyndowe ryght anone her hyed
With her two maydens she dyde hym vp wynde
Amyddes the wall and lefte hym there behynde
That was fyue fadam and more frome the grounde
Whan hymselfe in suche a case he founde
Alas he sayd my owne lady saue
Myn honeste and what ye lyst to haue
Ye shall haue it at your owne desyre
Now wynde me vp me herte is on fyre
Thou shalte quod she in that place abyde
That all the cyte so ryght longe and wyde
May the beholde and the mater knowe
For myne honeste and thy shame I trowe
So there he hynge tyll none of the day
That euery persone whiche went by the way
Myght hym well se and also beholde
And vnto them the very cause she tolde
Lo how with shame she her loue rewarded
His payne and sorow she nothynge regarded
Thus at the last he adowne was brought
Replete with shame it vayled hym ryght nought
Thus with grete angre he his loue confounded
Helynge the stroke whiche that she had wounded
And by his crafte he in Rome dyde drenche
Euery fyre / for he lefte none to quenche
And towarde Rome a grete tyrcuyte aboute
There was no fyre that was vn put oute
He at her buttockes set a brennynge cole
No fyre there was but at her ars hole
She torned her tout that was cryspe and fat
All about Rome dyde fetche theyr fyre therat
One of an other myght no fyre get
It wold not kyndle without he it fet
Frome her ars by the magykes art
She blewe the fyre whan she lete a fart
Thus euery man myght beholde and se
With the lyght of fyre her praty preuyte
Thus all the cyte vpon her dyde wonder
For perfyte sorowe her herte was nere a sonder
And thus Vyrgyll with crafty subtylnes
Rewarded her falshede and doublenes
All this I tell though that I be a fole
To the yonge knyght for thou mayst go to scole
In tyme comynge of true loue to lerne
Beware of that for thou canst not decerne
Thy ladyes mynde though that she speke the fayre
Her herte is false she wyll no trouthe repayre
Nay quod I they are not all dysposed
So for to do as ye haue here dysclosed
Aha quod he I trowe well ye be
A true louer so mote I thryue and the
Lete not thy lady of thyn herte be rother
Whan thou arte gone she wyll soone haue another
Thus forthe we rode tyll we sawe a ferre
A ryall toure as bryght as ony sterre
To whiche we rode as fast as we myght
Whan we came there adowne my stede I lyght
So dyd this Godfrey gobylyue also
In to the temple he after me gan go
There sat dame Venus and Cupyde her sone
Whiche had theyr parlyament ryght newly begone
To redersse louers of theyr payne and wo
Whiche in the temple dyde walke to and fro
And euery one his byll dyde present
Before Venus in her hygh parlyament
The temple of her ryall consystory
Was walled all aboute with yuory
All of golde lyke a place solacyous
The rose was made of knottes curyous
I can nothynge extende the goodlynes
Of her temple so moche of ryches
This Godfrey gobyleue wente lyghtly
Vnto dame sapyence the secretary
That dyde hym make this supplycacyon
To the goddes Venus with breuyacyon
O lady Venus of loue the goddes
Redres my payne of mortall heuynes
I dyde ones wowe an olde mayden ryche
A foule these an olde wydred wyche
Fayre mayd I sayd wyll ye me haue
Nay syr so god me kepe and saue
For you are euyll fauoured and also vgly
I am the worse to se your vysnamy
Yet was she fouler many an hondred folde
Than I my selfe as ye may well beholde
And therwith all he caused to depaynt
His face and hers all vnder his complaynt
And to Venus he made delyueraunce
Of his complayne by a shorte cyrcumstaunce
Whiche ryght anone whan she had it sene
Began to laugh with all the courte I wene
Lo here the fygures of them both certayne
Iuge whiche is best fauourde of them twayne.
By her grete fraude full craftely begyle
For on a day for his owne dysporte
To the courte of Rome he gan to resporte
Amonge the ladyes the tyme for to passe
Tyll at the last lyke Phebus in the glasse
So dyde a lady with her beaute clere
Shyne through his herte with suche loue so dere
Than of grete force he must nedes obey
She of his mynde bare bothe the locke and kay
So was his herte sette vpon a fyre
With feruent loue to attayne his desyre
She had hym caught in suche a wyly snare
Grete was his payne and moche more his care
To fynde a tyme whan it sholde be meued
To her of loue and he nothynge repreued
Thus euery day by ymagynacyon
In his mynde was suche perturbacyon
And at the laste he had founde a tyme
Hym thought to speke and vnto hym no cryme
Mercy lady now in all humble wyse
To her he sayd for yf ye me dyspyse
So hath your beaute my true herte arayde
It is no meruayle though I be afrayde
To you to speke yf that you deny
My purpose / truely I am marde vtterly
139
With inwarde care I by your beauty dere
I must abyde with all my hole entent
Of lyfe or dethe your onely Iugement
With fayned eres of perfyte audyence
She dyde hym here gyuynge this sentence
Vyrgyll she sayd I wolde fayne you ease
Of your trouble and of your grete dysease
But I wote not how that it sholde be
Without tournynge vs to grete dyshoneste
Yf it be knowen / than bothe you and I
Shall by reheyted at full shamefully
But what for that I haue me bethought
A praty crafte by me shall be wrought
Ye knowe my chambre Ioyneth to a wall
Beynge ryght hygh and a wyndowe withall
Soone at nyght whan all folke be at reste
I shall take a basket as me thynketh beste
And therto I shall a longe corde well tye
And frome the wyndowe lete it downe pryuelye
Ryght so whan it is adowne on the grounde
Ye may well entre in it bothe hole and sounde
And my two maydens the whiche secrete be
Shall anone helpe to hale you vp with me
Lo in this wyse you may haue ryght well
Your owne desyre in shorte space euery dell
At a .xj. of clocke in the nyght so derke
They dede appoynt for to fulfyll this werke
He often thanked her grete gentylnes
And so departed with grete gladnes
And so he wente vnto his study
Passynge the tyme hym selfe full merely
Tyll that the cloke dyde stryke aleuen
140
And founde the basket at the grounde a redy
And entred into it full sodaynly
Waggynge the rope whiche the lady espyed
Whiche to the wyndowe ryght anone her hyed
With her two maydens she dyde hym vp wynde
Amyddes the wall and lefte hym there behynde
That was fyue fadam and more frome the grounde
Whan hymselfe in suche a case he founde
Alas he sayd my owne lady saue
Myn honeste and what ye lyst to haue
Ye shall haue it at your owne desyre
Now wynde me vp me herte is on fyre
Thou shalte quod she in that place abyde
That all the cyte so ryght longe and wyde
May the beholde and the mater knowe
For myne honeste and thy shame I trowe
So there he hynge tyll none of the day
That euery persone whiche went by the way
Myght hym well se and also beholde
And vnto them the very cause she tolde
Lo how with shame she her loue rewarded
His payne and sorow she nothynge regarded
Thus at the last he adowne was brought
Replete with shame it vayled hym ryght nought
Thus with grete angre he his loue confounded
Helynge the stroke whiche that she had wounded
And by his crafte he in Rome dyde drenche
Euery fyre / for he lefte none to quenche
And towarde Rome a grete tyrcuyte aboute
There was no fyre that was vn put oute
He at her buttockes set a brennynge cole
No fyre there was but at her ars hole
141
All about Rome dyde fetche theyr fyre therat
One of an other myght no fyre get
It wold not kyndle without he it fet
Frome her ars by the magykes art
She blewe the fyre whan she lete a fart
Thus euery man myght beholde and se
With the lyght of fyre her praty preuyte
Thus all the cyte vpon her dyde wonder
For perfyte sorowe her herte was nere a sonder
And thus Vyrgyll with crafty subtylnes
Rewarded her falshede and doublenes
All this I tell though that I be a fole
To the yonge knyght for thou mayst go to scole
In tyme comynge of true loue to lerne
Beware of that for thou canst not decerne
Thy ladyes mynde though that she speke the fayre
Her herte is false she wyll no trouthe repayre
Nay quod I they are not all dysposed
So for to do as ye haue here dysclosed
Aha quod he I trowe well ye be
A true louer so mote I thryue and the
Lete not thy lady of thyn herte be rother
Whan thou arte gone she wyll soone haue another
Thus forthe we rode tyll we sawe a ferre
A ryall toure as bryght as ony sterre
To whiche we rode as fast as we myght
Whan we came there adowne my stede I lyght
So dyd this Godfrey gobylyue also
In to the temple he after me gan go
There sat dame Venus and Cupyde her sone
Whiche had theyr parlyament ryght newly begone
142
Whiche in the temple dyde walke to and fro
And euery one his byll dyde present
Before Venus in her hygh parlyament
The temple of her ryall consystory
Was walled all aboute with yuory
All of golde lyke a place solacyous
The rose was made of knottes curyous
I can nothynge extende the goodlynes
Of her temple so moche of ryches
This Godfrey gobyleue wente lyghtly
Vnto dame sapyence the secretary
That dyde hym make this supplycacyon
To the goddes Venus with breuyacyon
O lady Venus of loue the goddes
Redres my payne of mortall heuynes
I dyde ones wowe an olde mayden ryche
A foule these an olde wydred wyche
Fayre mayd I sayd wyll ye me haue
Nay syr so god me kepe and saue
For you are euyll fauoured and also vgly
I am the worse to se your vysnamy
Yet was she fouler many an hondred folde
Than I my selfe as ye may well beholde
And therwith all he caused to depaynt
His face and hers all vnder his complaynt
And to Venus he made delyueraunce
Of his complayne by a shorte cyrcumstaunce
Whiche ryght anone whan she had it sene
Began to laugh with all the courte I wene
Lo here the fygures of them both certayne
Iuge whiche is best fauourde of them twayne.
143
That many louers to hym dyde resorte
Whan I sawe tyme I went to sapyence
Shewynge to her with all my dylygence
How that my herte by Venus was trapte
With a snare of loue so preuely berapte
And in her toure to haue a dwellynge place
I seke aduentures to attayne her grace
Her name quod I / la belle pucell is
Bothe est and west she is well knoken ywys
144
Whose herte with payne she all aboute hath walled
With her beaute whiche dame nature create
Aboue all other in moost hye estate
Well sayd sapyence I thynke in my mynde
Her loue and fauoure you shall attayne by kynde
And I wyll drawe to you incontynent
All your complaynt as is conuenyent!
Vnto dame Venus to se derectly
For your payne and sorowe soone a remedy
She drewe my pyteous lamentacyon
Accordynge to this supplycacyon.
|
How he departed frome kynge Melyzyus with his
grehoūdes and attendance his varlet and met with
false reporte / that chaunged his name to Godfraye go bylyue. Ca. xxix.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes | |