To the kynges sone here in his levynge, To us declaryng, as be ther wrightyng, That kynges, prynces, sholde aboughte hym drawe, Folk that ben trewe, and wel expert in lawe. The kyng forthe rydyng entred Chepe anone, A lusty place, a place of alle delitis, Com to the Condyte, wher as cristalle ston, [Sidenote: Thetis est dea aquar'.] [Sidenote: Bachus est deus vini.] The water ran, like welles of Paradys: The holsome licour, ful riche and of gret pris, Lik to the water of Archedeclyne, Whiche be meracle were turnyd to[197] wyn: Thetes, which that is of waters chief goddesse, Hadde of the wellys power non nor myght, For Bachus shewyd ther his fulsomnesse, [Footnote 197: into.] Of holsome wynes, to every maner wight: For wyn of nature makith hertys light, Wherfore Bachus, atte reverence of the kyng, Shedde out his plente at his hom comyng. Wyn is a lycour of[198] recreacione, That day presentyd in tokne of[199] gladnes, Into the kyngges famous highe renone, [Footnote 198: of grete.] [Footnote 199: of alle.] From[200] to exile al maner hevynes, For with his comyng, the dede berith witnes, Out of this[201] lond he put away al trowble, And made of newe oure joyes to be dowble. Eke at thise welles, there were virgines thre, Whiche drew[202] up[203] wynes of joye and of plesance; Mercy, and Grace, there ther sustre eke Pite, [Footnote 200: From us.] [Footnote 201: the.] [Footnote 202: _transposed._] [Footnote 203: _transposed._] Mercy mynystred wynes of attemperaunce; Grace shed here licour of good governaunce; And Pite preferryd with ful good foysone, Wynes of comfort and consolacione; The wyn of Mercy stanchith of[204] nature, The gredy thristes of cruelle hastynes; Grace with here licour cristallyn and pure, [Footnote 204: by.] Differith vengeaunce of furious wodnes, And Pite blemsyght the swerd of rightwysnes, Covenable welles, most holsome of savour, For to be tasted of every governour. O how thise wellys who so tok good hede, With there licours moost homsome to ataine, Afore devysyd notably in dede, For to accorde with the Mairis name,[205] Whiche be report of his worthy fame, That day was besy in all his governaunce, Unto the kyng for to done plesaunce. There were ek trees, with levys fresshe of hewe, Al tyme of the yer ful of frutes lade, Of colour hevenly and evere eliche newe. [Footnote 205: Nomen maioris Johannes Welles.] Orenges, almondys, and the pomegarnade, Lymons, dates, there colours fresh and glade, Pypyns, quynces, blaundrellys to disport, And the pom cedre, corageus to recomfort: Eke othere frutes, whiche that more comown be, Quenyngges, peches, costardes, and wardons, And othere manye ful faire and freshe to se. The pome water, and the gentil ricardouns, And agaynes hertes for mutegacions,[206] Damasyns, whiche with there tast delite, Ful gret plente bothe of blak and white. And besydes this gracious paradis, Al ioghe[207] and gladnesse for to multiplie, Two olde men, ful circumspect and wys,