Of the Siege of Rouen it to write were pity, It is a thing so lamentable: Yet every High Feast, our King, of his charity, Gave them meat to their bodies comfortable; And at the last the town won, without fable. Thus of all as now I make an end: To the bliss of heaven, GOD our souls send! _Thus endeth the Battle of Agincourt._ Imprinted at London in Foster lane, in Saint Leonard's parish, by me JOHN SKOT. FINIS. Footnotes: [9] 1st August 1415. [10] 7th August 1415. [11] _It should be_ Clef de caus. [12] 14th August 1415. [13] 10th September 1415. [14] _It should be_ Sir LIONEL BRAQUEMONT. [15] 22nd September 1415. [16] 22nd September 1415. [17] _It should be_ Sir THOMAS ERPINGHAM. [18] _It should be_ Sir GILBERT UMFREVILLE. [19] _It should be_ Sir WILLIAM BOURCHIER. [20] ?8th October 1415. [21] _It should be_ Somme. [22] 25th October 1415. [23] 16th November 1415. [24] 22nd November 1415. [25] 23rd November 1415. THOMAS OCCLEVE, Clerk in the Office of the Privy Seal. _The Letter of CUPID._ [THOMAS OCCLEVE, Clerk in the Office of the Privy Seal.] _The Letter of CUPID._ [Old forms like _serven_, serve; _wollen_, will; _tellen_, tell; _doin_, done; and the Imperatives _bethe_, be; _telleth_, tell; occur in this Poem.] =T. Occleve. 1402.= CUPIDO, (unto whose commandement The gentle kindred of goddis on high And people infernal be obedient; And mortal folk all serven busily), Of the goddess son CYTHERA only; Unto all those that to our deity Be subjects, heartly greeting, sende we! In general, we wollen that ye know That Ladies of honour and reverence, And other Gentlewomen havin sow Such seed of complaint in our audience, Of men that do them outrage and offence; That it our earis grieveth for to hear, So piteous is the effect of this matere. Passing all landis, on the little isle That cleped is Albion, they most complain, They say that there is crop and root of guile: So can those men dissimulen and feign, With standing dropis in their eyen twain; When that their heartis feeleth no distress, To blinden women with their doubleness. Their wordis, spoken be so sighingly, With so piteous a cheer and countenance That every wight that meaneth truely Deemeth that they in heart have such grievance. They say, "So importable is their penance, That but their lady lust to shew them grace They, right anon, must starven in the place." "Ah, Lady mine!" they say, "I you ensure As doth me grace! and I shall ever be, While that my life may laste and endure To you as humble and low in each degree As possible is, and keep all things secree Right as yourselven liste that I do! And elles must mine hearte burst in two."