She unto me nor I unto her colde speke, And as of that it was no great wondre, Our hertes swelled as that they should breke; The fyre of love was so sore kept under. Whan I from her should depart asundre, Wyth her fayre head she dyd lowe enclyne, And in lykewyse so dyd I wyth myne. CAP. XX. OF THE GREAT SOROWE THAT GRAUNDE AMOUR MADE AFTER THE DEPARTYNGE AND OF THE WORDES OF COUNCEYLE. Her frendes and she on theyr waye they sayled Alonge the haven, God them save, and bryng Unto the londe! I herd whan that they hayled, Wyth a great peale of gunnes, at theyr departyng, The marvaylous toure of famous cunnynge; No gunne was shotte, but my herte dyd wepe For her departynge wyth wofull teres depe. Councell me comforted as ever he myght, Wyth many storyes of olde antyquyte. Remembre, he saide, that never yet was wyght That lyved alway in great tranquylyte, But that him happed some adversyte; Than after that, whan the payne was paste, The double joye dyd comfort them at laste. Ye nede nothynge for to make great dolour, Fortune to you hath bene ryght favourable, Makyng you to attayne the good favour Of your lady so swete and amyable. No doubte it is she is true and stable; And demeane you so that in no wyse No man perceyve of your love surmyse. Be hardy, fyers, and also coragyous, In all your batayles without feblenes, For ye shall be ryght well vyctoryous Of all your enemyes so full of subtylnes. Arme you wyth wysdome for more surenes, Let wysdome werke, for she can stedfastly In tyme of nede resyste the contrary. Was never man yet surely at the bayte Wyth Sapyence, but that he dyd repent; Who that is ruled by her higher estate, Of hys after wytte shall never be shent; She is to man ryght benyvolent; Wyth walles sure she doth hym fortyfye, Whan it is nede to resyste a contrary. Was never place where as she did guyde Wyth enemyes brought to destruccyon; A remedy she can so well provyde; To her hygh werke is no comparison, It hath so stronge and sure foundacyon: Nothyng there is that can it molyfy, So sure it is agaynst a contrary. Of her alwayes it is the parfyte guyse To begynne nothyng of mutabylyte, As is the warre which may sone aryse And wyl not downe, it may so stourdy be, The begynner oft hath the iniquite. Whan he began, wysdome did reply, In his grete nede to resyst the contrary. The myghty Pryant, somtyme kynge of Troye, Wyth all his cyte so well fortyfyed, Lytle regarded all his welth or joye, Wythout wysdome truely exemplyfied, His propre death him selfe he nutrifyed; Agaynst his warre wysdome did reply, At his grete nede to resyst the contrary.