Allè in grene, and on ther hedis bare Of diverse flouris made ful craftily, Al in a sute, godely chaplets they ware, And so dauncing into the mede they fare, In mid the which they found a tuft that was Al ovirsprad with flouris in compas: Whereto they enclined evèrichone With grete revèrence, and that full humbly; And at the last there tho began anon A lady for to sing right womanly A bargaret in praising the daisie, For (as methought) among her notis swete She said _Si douce est la Margarete_! Then they allè answerid her in fere So passingly well and so plesauntly, That it was a most blisfull noise to here; But I 'not how it happid, sodainly As about none the sonne so fervently Waxe hotè that the pretty tendir floures Had lost the beauty of their fresh collours. For shronke with hete the ladies eke to brent, That they ne wist where they them might bestow, The knightis swelt, for lack of shade nie shent, And aftir that within a litil throw The wind began so sturdily to blow That down goth all the flowris everichone, So that in all the mede there laft not one, Save such as succoured were among the leves Fro every storme that mightè them assaile, Growing undir the heggis and thick greves; And aftir that there came a storme of haile And rain in fere, so that withoutin faile The ladies ne the knightis n'ade o' thred Dry on them, so drooping wet was ther wede. And when the storme was clene passid away Tho in the white, that stode undir the tre, They felt nothing of all the grete affray That they in grene without had in ybe; To them they yede for routh and for pite, Them to comfort aftir their grete disese, So fain they were the helplesse for to ese. Than I was ware how one of them in grene Had on a coron rich and well-fitting, Wherefore I demid well she was a quene, And tho in grene on her were awaiting; The ladies then in white that were coming Towardis them, and the knightis in fere, Began to comfort them and make them chere. The quene in white, that was of grete beauty, Toke by the honde the quene that was in grene, And seidè, Sustir, I have grete pity Of your annoy and of your troublous tene Wherein ye and your company have bene So long, alas! and if that if you plese To go with me I shall do you the ese In al the plesure that I can or may; Whereof that othir, humbly as she might, Thankid her, for in right evil array She was with storme and hete I you behight; And evèry lady then anon right That were in white one of them toke in grene By the hond, which when the knightis had sene In like manir eche of them toke a knight Clad in the grene, and forth with them they fare To an heggè, where that they anon right To makin these justis they would not spare