And than right sone, with great solempnite, So forth we rode to the solempne mancion Of La Belle Pucelles worthy dignite; Whiche was a toure of mervaylous facion, Replete with joy without suggestion, Walled with sylver, and many a story Upon the wall enameled ryally. So at the last we came unto the gate, Whiche all of sylver was knotted proprely; Where was a lady of ryght hye estate, Whiche us receyved well and nobly. And than Perceveraunce went full shortly To La Belle Pucell, shewynge every thynge Of myne adventure and sodayne comynge. CAP. XXXVIII. HOW GRAUNDE AMOURE WAS RECEYVED OF LA BELLE PUCELL. Whan she it knewe, than right incontynente She called to her Peace and dame Mercy, With Justice, and Reason the lady excellent, Pleasaunce, Grace, wyth good dame Memory, To wayte upon her full ententyfely; Me to receyve wyth all solempne joye, Adowne her chamber she went on her waye. And in the meane while the gentle porteres, Called Countenaunce, on my way then me lede, Into the basse courte of greate wydenes, Where all of golde there was a conduyte hede, With many dragons enameled with reed, Whiche dyde spoute oute the dulcet lycoure, Lyke cristall clere, with aromatyke odoure. Alofte the basse toure foure ymages stode, Whiche blewe the clarions well and wonderly. Alofte the toures the golden fanes goode Dyde with the wynde make full swete armony, Them for to here it was great melody. The golden toures with cristall clarefied About were glased moost clerely purefyed. And the gravell whereupon we wente, Ful lyke the gold that is moost pure and fyne, Withouten spotte of blacke encombremente Aboute oure fete it dyde ryghte clerely shyne; It semed more lyke a place celestyne, Than an erthly mansion, whiche shall away By longe tyme and proces an other day. And towarde me I dyde se than comynge La Belle Pucell, the moost fayre creature Of ony fayre erthely person lyvyng, Whiche with me mette with chere so demure. Of the shynynge golde was all her vesture; I dyd my duty, and ones or twyse ywys Her lyppes soft I did full swetely kys. Aha! quod she, that I am very fayne That you are come, for I have thought long Sithen the time that we parted in twayne, And for my sake you have had often wronge; But your courage so hardy and strong, Hath caused you for to be victorious Of your enmyes so much contrarious. Wyth her fayre hand, white as ony lilly, She dyd me lede into a ryall hall, With knottes kerved full right craftely, The windowes fayre glased with crystall, And all about, upon the golden wall, There was enameled, with figures curious, The syege of Troye so hard and dolorous.