The one turnynge towarde the sterre agayne The other stretched ryght towarde Phebus To beholde this sterre / I was somwhat fayne But than I mused with herte full dolorous Whyder it sygnyfyed thynges good or peryllous Thus longe I studyed / tyll at the last I thought What it sholde meane / as in my herte I sought This sterre it sygnyfyeth the resynge of a knyght The bowynge beame agayne so tournynge Betokened rattonnes of them whiche by myght Wolde hym resyst by theyr wronge resystynge The beame towarde Phebus clerely shynynge Betokened many meruaylous fyres grete On them to lyght that wolde his purpose lete In the fyre clerest of euery element God hath appered vnto many a one Inspyrynge them / with grete wytte refulgent Who lyst to rede many dayes agone Many one wryteth trouthe / yet cõforte hath he none Wherfore I fere me / lyke a swarme of bees Wylde fyre wyll lyght amonge a thousande pees ¶ Sepe expugnauerunt me a iuuentute mea: et enim non potuerunt michi. As the cantycles maketh good mencyon They haue oft expugned me / syth my yonge age Yet coude they haue me / in theyr domynyon Though many a one / vnhappely do rage They shall haue sorowe that shytte me in a cage In a grete dyspyte of the holy goost He maye them brenne / theyr calkynge is but loost ¶ Supra dorsum meũ fabricauerũt peccatores: prolongauerũt iniquitatẽ suã. Vpon my backe synners hath fabrysed They haue prolonged theyr grete inyquyte From daye to daye it is not my mynysshed Wherfore for vengeaunce by grete extremyte It cryeth aboue / now vnto the deyte Whiche that his mynysters haue suffred so longe To lyue in synne and euyll wayes wronge Whan I had perceyued euery maner thynge Of this ryall myrour / accordynge to effecte Remembrynge the verses / of the olde saynge Whiche in my mynde I dyde well coniecte Than to the swerde / I thought to haue respecte Ryght so I went / than at all auenture Vnto the hande / that helde the swerde so sure I felte the hande / of the stell so fyne Me thought it quaked / the fyngers gan to stretche I thought by that / I came than of the lyne Of the grete lady / that fyrst the swerde dyde fetche The swerdes pomell / I began to ketche The hande swerued / but yet neuer the lesse I helde them bothe / by excellent prowes {An}d at the last / I felte the hande departe The swerde I toke / with all my besynesse So I subdued / all the magykes arte And founde the scauberde / of meruaylous rychesse After that I toke the shelde doune doubtlesse Kyssynge the swerde / and the shelde ofte I wys Thankynge god / the whiche was cause of this Gladde was I than / of my ryall floure Of my swerde and shelde / I reioyced also It pacyfyed well / my inwarde doloure But fro my ladyes beaute / my mynde myght not go I loued her surely / for I loued no mo Thus my fayre floure / and my swerde and shelde With eyen ryght meke / full often I behelde