And touchend of the remenaunt, Which is the thridde of your axinges, What lest is worth of allè thinges, And costeth most, I telle it pride, Which may nought in the heven abide. For Lucifer with hem that felle Bar pridè with him into helle. There was pride of to grete cost Whan he for pride hath heven lost; And after that in Paradise Adam for pridè lost his prise In middel-erth. And eke also Pride is the cause of allè wo, That all the world ne may suffice To staunche of pridè the reprise. Pride is the heved[24] of all sinne, Which wasteth all and may nought winne; [Pg 6590]Pride is of every mis[25] the pricke[26]; Pride is the worstè of all wicke, And costeth most and lest is worth In placè where he hath his forth. Thus have I said that I woll say Of min answére, and to you pray, My legè lorde, of your office, That ye such grace and suche justice Ordeignè for my fader here, That after this, whan men it here, The world therof may spekè good." The king, which reson understood, And hath all herde how she hath said, Was inly glad, and so well paid, That all his wrath is over go. And he began to lokè tho Upon this maiden in the face, In which he found so mochel grace, That all his prise on her he laide In audience, and thus he saide:— "My fairè maidè, well the[27] be Of thin answére, and eke of the Me liketh well, and as thou wilte, Foryivè be thy faders gilte. And if thou were of such lignage, That thou to me were of parage, And that thy fader were a pere, As he is now a bachelere, So siker as I have a life, Thou sholdest thannè be my wife. But this I saiè netheles, That I woll shapè thin encrese; What worldès good that thou wolt crave Are of my yift, and thou shalt have." And she the king with wordès wise, Knelende, thanketh in this wise:— "My legè lord, god mot you quite.[28] My fader here hath but a lite Of warison,[29] and that he wende Had all be[30] lost, but now amende He may well through you noble grace." [Pg 6591]With that the king right in his place Anon forth in that freshè hete An erldome, which than of eschete Was latè falle into his honde, Unto this knight with rent and londe Hath yove, and with his chartre sesed, And thus was all the noise appesed. This maiden, which sate on her knees To-fore the kingès charitees, Commendeth and saith evermore:— "My legè lord, right now to-fore Ye saide, and it is of recorde, That if my fader were a lorde And pere unto these other grete, Ye wolden for nought ellès lette, That I ne sholdè be your wife. And thus wote every worthy life A kingès worde mot nede be holde. Forthy my lord, if that ye wolde So great a charitè fulfille, God wotè it were well my wille. For he which was a bachelere, My fader, is now made a pere; So whan as ever that I cam, An erlès doughter nowe I am." This yongè king, which peisèd[31] all Her beautè and her wit withall, As he, which was with lovè hente,[32] Anone therto gaf his assente.