[Sidenote: Metricus secundus. C. recitacio simplex.] Gone is he, alas, that redy was to do Eche thynge that to nobles required! Gone is he, alas, that redy was to do Eche thynge that curtesye of him desyred! Whose frowarde fate falsely was conspyred By Antraphos vnasured and her vngracyous charmys; Jaspar I mene is gone, Mars son in armys. [Sidenote: M. iii. C. narracio.] He that of late regnyd in glory, With grete glosse buttylly glased, Nowe lowe vnder fote doth he ly, With wormys ruly rente and rasyd, His carayne stynkynge, his fetures fasyd; Brother and vncle to kynges yesterday, Nowe is he gone and lafte vs as mased; Closed here lyeth he in a clote of clay: Shall he come agayne? a, nay, nay! Where is he become, I can nat discusse: Than with the prophet may we say, _Non inuentus est locus eius_. [Sidenote: Metricus quartus et retrogradiens. Color. discripcio.] Restynge in him was honoure with sadnesse, Curtesy, kyndenesse, with great assuraunce, Dispysynge vice, louynge alway gladnesse, Knyghtly condicyons, feythful alegeaunce, Kyndely demenoure, gracyous vtteraunce; Was none semelyer, feture ne face; Frendely him fostered quatriuial aliaunce; Alas, yet dede nowe arte thou, Jaspar, alas! [Sidenote: Metricus quintus.] Wherfore sorowe to oure sorowe none can be founde, Ne cause agayne care to mollyfy oure monys: Alas, the payne! For his body and goste, That we loued moste, In a graue in the grounde Deth depe hath drounde Among robel and stonys: Wherfore complayne. [Sidenote: M. vi.] Complayne, complayne, who can complayne; For I, alas, past am compleynte! To compleyne wyt can not sustayne, Deth me with doloure so hath bespraynte; For in my syghte, Oure lorde and knyghte, Contrary to righte, Deth hath ateynte. [Sidenote: M. vii. C. iteracio.] As the vylest of a nacyon, Deuoyde of consolacyon, By cruel crucyacyon, He hath combryd hym sore; He hath him combryd sore, That Fraunce and Englonde bere byfore Armys of both quarteryd, And with _hony soyte_ was garteryd, Se howe he is nowe marteryd! Alas for sorowe therfore, Alas for sorowe therfore! Oute and weleaway, For people many a score For him that yel and rore, Alas that we were bore To se this dolorous day! With asshy hue compleyne also, I cry, Ladyes, damosels, mynyonat and gorgayse; Knyghtes aunterus of the myghty monarchy, Complayne also; for he that in his dayes To enhaunce wonte was your honoure, youre prayse, Now is he gone, of erthly blysse ryfyld; For dredeful Deth withouten delayse Ful dolorously his breth hath stifild. [Sidenote: C. transsumpcio.]