O ryght fayre lady of grene flourynge age you can not do but as your frendes agre your wyte is grete / you mekenes / dooth not swage Exyle dysdayne / and be ruled by pety The frenshe man sayth / that shall be shall be yf that I dye / louer was neuer none Deyed in this worlde / for a fayrer persone Your beaute causeth all my amyte Why sholde your beaute / to my dethe condyscende your vertue and mekenes / dyde so arest me Why sholde ye than to dame dysdayne intende your prudence your goodnes / dooth mercy extende Why sholde ye than enclyne to cruelte Your grace I trust wyll non extremyte A dere herte I maye complayne ryght longe you here me not / nor se me not arayed Nor causes my paynes for to be stronge It was myn eyes / that made me fyrst dysmayde With stroke of loue / that coude not me delaye My ryght fayre lady / my herte is colde and faynt Wolde now to god / that you knewe my complaynte Thus as I mourned I herde a lady speke I loked asyde I sawe my lady gracyous My herte than fared / as it sholde breke For perfyte Ioye whiche was solacyous Before her grace / ryght swete and precyous I kneled doune / saynge with all mekenesse Please it your grace / & excellent noblenes No dyspleasure to take for my beynge here For fortune me brought / to this place ryall Where I haue wonne this floure so vertuous & dere This swerde and shelde / also not peregall Towadre hym aduenture to be tryumphall And now by fortunes desteny and fate Do here my duety vnto your hygh estate Ihesu sayd she than / who hadde wende to fynde Your selfe walkynge / in this place all alone Full lytell thought I / ye were not in my mynde What is the cause / that ye make suche mone I thynke some thynge / be from you past and gone But I wonder / how that ye dyde attayne This floure / this swerde / the shelde also certayne For by a lady in the antyquyte They were made to a meruaylous entente That none sholde get them / but by auctoryte Whiche onely by fortune / sholde hyder be sent Full many knyghtes by entendement Hath them aduentred / to haue them in dede But all was vayne / for they myght neuer spede Wherfore surely / ye are moche fortunate Them for to wynne by your aduenture But it was no thynge to you ordynate And you dyde well / to put your selfe in vre To proue the Ieoperdy / whiche hath made you sure Leue all your mournynge / for there is no wyght Hath greter cause / for to be gladde and lyght I behelde well her demure countenaunce Vnto her swete wordes / gyuynge good audyence And than I marked in my remembraunce Her pleasaunt apparayle / with all my dylygence Whiche was full ryche of meruaylous excellence Fyrst alofte her forheed / full properly was dressed Vnder her orellettes / her golden heere well tressed