He is so bete 930 With malyce, and frete With angre and yre, His foule desyre Wyll suffre no slepe In his hed to crepe; His foule[423] semblaunt All displeasaunte;[424] Whan other ar glad, Than is he sad; Frantyke and mad; 940 His tong neuer styll For to say yll, Wrythyng and wringyng, Bytyng and styngyng; And thus this elf Consumeth himself, Hymself doth slo Wyth payne and wo. This fals Enuy Sayth that I 950 Vse great folly For to endyte, And for to wryte, And spend my tyme In prose and ryme, For to expres The noblenes Of my maistres, That causeth me Studious to be 960 To[425] make a relation Of her commendation; And there agayne Enuy doth complayne, And hath disdayne; But yet certayne I wyll be[426] playne, And my style dres To this prosses. Now Phebus me ken 970 To sharpe my pen, And lede my fyst As hym best lyst, That I may say Honour alway Of womankynd! Trouth doth me bynd And loyalte Euer to be Their true bedell, 980 To wryte and tell How women excell In noblenes; As my maistres, Of whom I thynk With pen and ynk For to compyle Some goodly[427] style; For this most goodly[428] floure, This blossome of fresh coloure, 990 So Jupyter me socoure, She flourissheth new and new In beaute and vertew: _Hac claritate gemina_ _O gloriosa fœmina,_ _Legem pone mihi, domina,[429] in viam justificationum tuarum!_ _Quemadmodum desiderat cervus ad fontes aquarum._ How shall I report All the goodly sort Of her fetures clere, 1000 That hath non erthly pere? Her[430] fauour of her face Ennewed all with[431] grace, Confort, pleasure, and solace, Myne hert doth so enbrace, And so hath rauyshed me Her to behold and se, That in wordes playne I cannot me refrayne To loke on[432] her agayne: 1010 Alas, what shuld I fayne? It wer a plesaunt payne With her aye to remayne. Her eyen gray and stepe Causeth myne hert to lepe; With her browes bent She may well represent Fayre Lucres, as I wene, Or els fayre Polexene, Or els Caliope, 1020 Or els Penolope; For this most goodly floure, This blossome of fresshe coloure, So Jupiter me socoure, She florisheth new and new In beautye and vertew: _Hac claritate gemina_ _O gloriosa fœmina,_ _Memor esto verbi tui servo tuo!_ _Servus tuus sum ego._ 1030 The Indy saphyre blew Her vaynes doth ennew;