Sir Penny gives men richest weeds, And many men may ride his steeds In this world so wide. In every game and every play The mastery is given aye To Penny for his pride. Sir Penny always wins the prize Wherever towers and castles rise By town or country way; Without either spear or shield He is the best in wood or field, Most stalwart in the fray. In every place this truth is seen, Sir Penny rules both great and mean; Most masterful is he; And all is as he does command; Against his will no man dare stand, Neither on land or sea. Sir Penny's counsel gives great aid To those who have his law obeyed, As the assizes show. He lengthens life and saves from death, But love him not o'er well, God saith, For covetousness is woe. If thou shouldst chance treasure to win, Delight thee not too much therein, Nor proud nor haughty be; But spend all as a Christian can, So that thou mayst love God and man In perfect charity. God grant us grace, with heart and will, The goods that he is giving, still Well and wisely to spend; And our lives here so to lead, That we may have His bliss for meed, Ever without an end. Translated by M. H. S. LAY SIR ORFEO SIR ORFEO[64] Orfeo was a king, In Inglond an heighe lording, A stalworth man and hardi bo,[65] Large and curteys, he was al so; His fader was comen of king Pluto, And his moder of king Juno, That sum time were as godes y hold, For aventours that thai dede and told. This king sojurned in Traciens, That was a cite of noble defens, For Winchester was cleped[66] tho Traciens, with outen no. The king hadde a quen of priis, That was y cleped dame Heurodis. The fairest levedi[67] for the nones[68] That might gon on bodi and bones, Ful of love and godenisse Ac no man may telle hir fairnise. Bifel so in the comessing of May, When miri and hot is the day, And oway beth winter schours, And everi feld is ful of flours, And blosme breme[69] on everi bough, Over al wexeth miri anough, This ich[70] quen dame Heurodis, Tok to maidens of priis, And went in an undren tide[71] To play bi an orchard side To se the floures sprede and spring, And to here the foules sing: Thai sett hem doun al thre, Under a fair ympe[72] tre, And wel sone this fair quene, Fel on slepe opon the grene. The maidens durst hir nought awake, Bot let hir ligge and rest take, So sche slepe til after none, That under tide was al y done; Ac as sone as sche gan awake, Sche crid and lothli bere gan make; Sche froted[73] hir honden and hir fet, And crached her visage, it blede wete, Hir riche robe hye al to rett,[74] And was reneyd[75] out of hir witt.