That he upon him myhte se. The king was sone set and served, And he, which hath his pris deserved[1535] After the kinges oghne word, Was mad beginne a Middel bord, 720 That bothe king and queene him sihe. He sat and caste aboute his yhe And sih the lordes in astat, And with himself wax in debat Thenkende what he hadde lore, And such a sorwe he tok therfore, That he sat evere stille and thoghte, As he which of no mete roghte. [Sidenote: Qualiter Appolinus in cena recumbens nichil comedit, set doloroso vultu, submisso capite, ingemiscebat;[1536] qui tandem a filia Regis confortatus cytharam plectens cunctis audientibus citharisando vltramodum complacuit.] The king behield his hevynesse, And of his grete gentillesse 730 His doghter, which was fair and good And ate bord before him stod, [Sidenote: =P. iii. 300=] As it was thilke time usage, He bad to gon on his message And fonde forto make him glad. And sche dede as hire fader bad, And goth to him the softe pas And axeth whenne and what he was, And preith he scholde his thoghtes leve. He seith, ‘Ma Dame, be your leve 740 Mi name is hote Appolinus, And of mi richesse it is thus, Upon the See I have it lore. The contre wher as I was bore, Wher that my lond is and mi rente, I lefte at Tyr, whan that I wente: The worschipe of this worldes aghte,[1537] Unto the god ther I betaghte.’[1538] And thus togedre as thei tuo speeke, The teres runne be his cheeke. 750 The king, which therof tok good kepe, Hath gret Pite to sen him wepe, And for his doghter sende ayein, And preide hir faire and gan to sein That sche no lengere wolde drecche, Bot that sche wolde anon forth fecche Hire harpe and don al that sche can To glade with that sory man. And sche to don hir fader heste 760 Hir harpe fette, and in the feste Upon a Chaier which thei fette Hirself next to this man sche sette: [Sidenote: =P. iii. 301=] With harpe bothe and ek with mouthe To him sche dede al that sche couthe To make him chiere, and evere he siketh, And sche him axeth hou him liketh. ‘Ma dame, certes wel,’ he seide, ‘Bot if ye the mesure pleide Which, if you list, I schal you liere, It were a glad thing forto hiere.’ 770 ‘Ha, lieve sire,’ tho quod sche, ‘Now tak the harpe and let me se[1539] Of what mesure that ye mene.’ Tho preith the king, tho preith the queene, Forth with the lordes alle arewe, That he som merthe wolde schewe; He takth the Harpe and in his wise He tempreth, and of such assise Singende he harpeth forth withal, That as a vois celestial 780