An English friend of Charles of Orléans / [Henry Noble MacCracken]. McCracken, H. N. (Henry Noble), b. 1880. 26 pages, ca. 54 kb University of Michigan Library Ann Arbor, Michigan 2018 CME00078 04077999 BAV3514

The University of Michigan Library provides access to these materials in furtherance of its educational and research mission. This work has been identified as being in the public domain, free of known restrictions under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights. You may copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. If you have questions about the collection, please contact Digital Content and Collections (mec-info@umich.edu). If you have concerns about the inclusion of an item in this collection, please contact Library Information Technology (LibraryIT-info@umich.edu).

 Publications of the Modern Language Association of America / ed. Charles H. Grandgent. Vol. 26, p. [142]-180. [39] p. ; 24 cm. Baltimore, MD The Association 1911 Title from email of 2000-03-08 ; description based on email note. Corpus of Middle English. "Henry Noble MacCracken"--Editor, p. 180.

Header created with script catalogedexcerpts2cmeteiutf.xsl on 2018-07-13.

Header expanded with script IDmapper.xsl on 2018-07-31.

Encoding has been done using the recommendations for Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines.

 English, Middle (1100-1500) 9-16-16lattajMURPAdded TEMPHEAD, checked ID, and added TYPEs to DIVs in order to validate. Checked for N=""s. Checked for GROUP tags. Proofed title page. Checked s. Reviewed structure; removed French fragment from the beginning of text; removed several incorrect MILESTONES; changed some sub HEADs to HEADNOTE Ps; removed DIV3s; moved a NOTE. Checked placement and completeness of PBs. Checked for damage GAPs, #s, @s, --s, and UNCLEARs. Corrected [dollar]s. Checked for &cs with incorrect spacing. Checked for LBs. Checked for startqs and endqs, abq's, oes, qs, Ae's, and Qs. Checked proofsheets and made corrections. Checked italic I / J and U / V. Checked for missing page GAPs. Checked for EPIGRAPHs and ARGUMENTS. Checked CLOSERs, OPENERs, SIGNEDs, SALUTEs, TRAILERs, BYLINEs. Checked decorated initials. Checked FIGUREs. Sample: 2 minutes. Proofing: 0 minutes. Tag review and corrections: 50 minutes. DONE.
78 CME00078 CME00078 B. POEMS FROM THE FAIRFAX MS. 16, IN THE BODLEIAN.

Folios 318-329.

 I Balade To fle the sect of alle mysgouernaunce I am truly wyth-hold MS. hole. in sych a place MS. Palace. Which I purpose to haue in remembraunce As longe a while as I haue lyfe and spase, Waytynge vpon her mercy & her grace; And so I thynke my matyr to procede Constreynd of hert with stedfast loue and drede. For as me thynke I am ryght hylye bounde To do that thyng whiche myght be her plesaunce, And her I thanke, yf in me may be founde O poynt of thryft or of good gouernaunce, Or thyng that me to worschyp shuld awaunce; Thus haue I cause to serue her godelyhede, Constreynd of hert wyth stedfaste loue and drede. Constreynd I am, but nought ayeyn myn hert To loue her best as for myn hertes ese; Alway in drede that ought shuld me astert Her to offende or any wyse dysplese. She may my welfare maynten and encrese, Wherfor I must obbey her womanhede, Constreynd of hert wyth stedfast loue and drede. II Balade And as MS. os. The MS. sometimes writes os, sometimes as. I have throughout written as. for yow that most ar in my mynde, Loke, in what wyse the wyll I be demened, So wyl I do in any maner kynde Wyth alle the seruyse that I can, vnfeyned, Neuer for othir myn hert to be constreynd, But fully set my purpose to endure To loue yow best of ony creature. And for as much as MS. os. I that [am] your man And must do seruyse to your womanhede, I yow bys[e]che as lowly as I can To schewe your grace & put me out of drede. Ryght goodly fayr, the gentyllest in dede, I yowe require, as her that I loue best, Relese my payn, and set myn hert in rest. Ther is in me no maner of comfort But whan that I am styll in your presence, Wherto I must alway make my resort, Of verey force, withoutyn resystence; And yf so be that I haue done offence In worde or dede that shuld you dysobeye, I wyll seke grace, ther ys no more to seye. Remembre yow, the godely creature, How longe a space that I haue lyfyd in payn, And of comfort as yit I am not sure, But what ye lyst of grace for me ordayn, I lyue in hope, and ye may make me fayn. But of my wo sumwhat I wold ye wyst, I can no more, do wyth me what yow lyst. III Balade O lord god, what yt is gret plesaunce For me to thynke, so goodly and so fayre Be ye that haue myn hert in gouernaunce, So vertuous and eke so debonayre, So full of bounte which doth not apayre, But euer encreseth in your goodlyhede, All this god hath set in your womanhede, I haue gret cause of yow thus for to wryte, Which beth in syght so goodly to by-hold And tryst fully, yf I couth wele endyte, I wold saye bettyr, many a thousand-fold; For I suppose, though god of nature wold Schew hys power, and all hys bysy cure, He couth not make a fayrer creature. O ye Lucresse, and also fair Eleyn, Thys I require yow of your gentyllesse That in no wyse ye take yt in dysdeyn Though she which is my lady and maistresse Stand in your noumber, for in sothfastnesse I know her not alyue, that in thys case Is bettir worthy ther to haue a place. IV Compleynt Now lyst fortune thus for me to purueye, That I ne may vn-to your speche attayn, Nor I ne wot on whom myn erand leye, To tell my thoughtys, of whych I me complayn, Which hath me bounde in grete dysese and payn, Hauyng no triste my purpose to accheue, And so I lyue almost out of byleue. For wele I wot ther ys no creature That can tell al my greuaunce thurughly As can my-self, whereof I may make me sure, He lyueth not that felyth more than I Whych longe hath seruyd wyth-out remedy, Beyng a-ferd yow to dysplese or greue, And [so] I lyue almost out of byleue. But for my part ye schal wele knaw and fele, Syth I yow chase my lady for to be, Ne louyd I neuer creature so wele As yow allone, so god my warant be, Of pore ne ryche, of hye ne low degre; Not knowing yit how my Fortune will MS. whille. preue, And so I lyue almost out byleue. And syth that ye me toke in gouernaunce, Yow for to plese I haue don myn entent, And wyth MS. whyt. myn seruyse done yow obeyssaunce, Whyche late nor erly neuer did repent; As fortune wyll, I must hold me content. Myn hert ys ther as yt wyl not remeue, And so I lyue almost out of byleue. V Compleynt Knelyng allon, ryght thus I may make my wylle, As your seruant in euery maner wyse, To whom I yive myn hert and myn gode wylle Euer to be suget to your seruyse, Ryght as ye lyst to ordeyn and deuyse, I wyl be yours, and that I yow ensure, Not for to chaunge for erthely creature. Syth yt is so, my lady and maistresse, That I must nede by fortuns ordynaunce Depart fro yow which is [my] most gladnesse, It ys to me the most heuy greuaunce That euer yit cam to my remembraunce, But euery man ys ordeyne to endure The stroke of Fortune and of auenture. Wherefore my lady, I can say no more, But I am yours, with hertys obeyssaunce, And wyll be forthe, as I haue ben byfore, Abydynge styll your reule and ordynaunce As fortune wylle, so must I take my chaunce. I can no more, but alle my faythfull tryst It lythe in yow, demene me as ye lyst. VI Lettyr Ryght goodly flour, to whom I owe seruyse, Wyth alle myn hert, & to non othir wyght To yow I wryte, my lady, in thys wyse, As her that I owe fayth of verry ryght, As ofte as I haue wysshed me in your syght And flours in Apryle bygynne for to sprede. I recomaunde me to your womanhede, Desyryng euer aboue alle othyr thynge The welfare of your beautuous ymage, Whych ys to me a verey reioysyng, To thynk vpon your womanly vysage, Havyng in mynde your young and tendir age That god of nature hathe in yow endowyd Whiche in your person nede must bene alowed. And of my matyr shortly to procede, This ys treuly theffect of myn entent, That ye lyst grant me of your goodlyhede Sum of that grace that god to yow hath sent, Besechyng yow though I be not present, To thynk vpon your seruantes heuynesse That lyueth in tryst of your gret gentilnesse. And at thys tyme to yow I wryte no more, But wold god ye lyst to haue in mynde This symple wrytyng which that ys byfore, That I sum comfort by your grace may fynde; And god I pray, that worshypeth alle mankynde, That lord aboue, that syteth in his empire, He send yow Ioy of alle that ye desyre. VII Compleynt O wofull hert profound in gret duresse. A recollection of Lydgate, Life of Our Lady, line 1, O thoughtful herte, plongyd in distresse. Which canst not playn nor opyn thy dysese, But frete thy-selfe wyth care and heuynesse, Ay full of thought thy sorous to encresse, No wondir though thou be not wele at ese, When þou MS. you. so far art out of her presence, To whom thou must do seruyse and reuerence. It ys no bote to stryue as in this case, Though thou complayn, she may not here thy voys. Lat euery seson haue hys tyme and spase As fortune wyll, ther is non othir chois. But yit among thou maist thyself reioys For at thys tyme, though thou sumwhat be greuyd, Here-afterward yit maistow be releuyd. And in as mych as thou hast put thy trist In her allonly which is thy maistresse, To gouerne the and reule ryght as her lyst Haue thou non doute but of her gentyllesse She wyll consyder thy grete heuynesse; And trysteth well that in ryght goodly wysse She wyll reward the after MS. for. thy seruysse. VIII Compleynt O thou Fortune, whyche hast the gouernaunce Of alle thynges kyndly mevyng to and fro, Thaym to demene aftyr thyn ordynaunce Ryght as thou lyst to grant hem wele or wo; Syth that thou lyst that I be on of tho That must be reulyd be thyn avysinesse, Why wyltow not wythstand myn heuynesse? Me thynk thou art vnkynd as in this case, To suffer me so long a while endure So gret a payn, wyth-out mersy or grase, Which greuyd me ryght sore, I the ensure; And syth thou knowst I am that creature That wold be fauoured be thy gentyllesse, Why wyltow not wythstonde myn heuynesse? What causyth the to be myn aduersarye? I haue not done that which shulde the dysplese MS. which that shulle dysplese. And yit thou art to myn entent contrarye, Whiche makyth now my sorous to encres; And syth þou wost myn hert ys not in ese, But euer in trouble wyth-out sykernesse, Why wyltow not wythstande myn heuynesse? To the allonly this compleynt I make, For thou art cause of myn aduersyte, And yit I wot wele thou mayst vndirtake For myn wel-fare, yf that thou lyst agre; I haue no cause to blame no wyght but the, For thys thou doost of very wylfulnesse, Why wyltow not wythstand myn heuynesse? IX Compleynt O cruell daunger all myn aduersarye, Of whom alle louers aught sore to complayne, Sechyng MS. Sechyn. the ways to thayr entent contrayre, Syche as be trew to haue hem in dysdayne, When they haue long enduryd in thaire payne Supposyng alway mercy to purchace, Though thy malyce doth pyte so restrayne That trew seruauntes for the may haue no grace. I say for me, ther ys no man on lyue That more hath cause to playn as in this case; But yt avayleth not wyth hym to stryue, For he is fest in many a goodly place, And for bycause he stant so wele in grace, Hyt aught not the peple to dysplese; Though thay ryght sore be boundyn in his lase Yit MS. It. caryth he but lytyll for thayr ese. But for alle thys, yit wold I counsayle the, Walke not to large In awnter thou be schent; And yf thou do, yt well non othir be But tryst fully, thou shall it sore repent. Yit were thou bettyr, aftir myn entent, To reule the so that alle thys myght be pesed, Vpon this to make apoyntement That fro hensforth alle pratyse may be plesyd. X Compleynt Now must I nede part out of your presence, Whiche causeth me to lyue in gret dystresse And I no socour haue, nor no defence For to wythstand myn inward heuynesse; Wherfor I pray you of your gentyllesse Haue mynde on hym that serueth faythfully And for your seruaunt shape sum remedy. Though I be far, yit haue in remembraunce My long seruyse abydyng euer in one Wyth-outyn chaunge or feyned countynaunce, Hauyng no comfort but of yow allone. To yow, my lady, thus I make my mone, As ye that have bene to me the best That euer I fonde as for myn hertys rest. Hold me escused, I haue non eloquence, Nor no konnyng, to wryte to my purpose, Made in gret hast to com to your presence As sone as I thys wrytyng myght endose; Besechyng yow, that ye wyll kepe yt close, And lat this lytyll byll with yow abyde, For wykkyd tongys do harme on euery syde. Go forth, balade, and I shall yive yow wage; To her that ys my lady and maistresse Be not a-ferde, but sey her thy message, Me recomawndyng to her hye noblesse, Lettyng her wyt, in verey sothfastnesse, I wyl be truly hers in euery place Besechyng her accept me to her grace. XI Compleynt What shuld me cause, or ony wyse to thynk, To haue plesaunce or Ioy in any kynde Or any coumfort in myn hert to synk, When I so sore am vexyd in my mynde To se the causys which that men do fynde To hyndyr me, ayeins all maner ryght, Which thynketh not but trouth to euery wyght? But he that me vngoodly doth accuse So wolde criste, for hys hye pyte It were wele knawn what maners he dothe vse, That hys allonly myght a warnyng be To alle women which stand in lyberte That thay of answers may be well purueyde, Or ells by men they may be sone betrayede. And he that fully fettyth hys purpose To sklaundyr thaym which that unworthy be, It ys to deme, as I may wele suppose, No poynt of trouthe, but verry sotelte To save hym harmles, how that euer yt be; But I that am not worthy to be blamyd, Me thynke yt wrong thus for to be dyffamed. XII Compleynt Walkyng allon, of wyt full desolat, In my sp[y]rytes turmentyd to and fro, And wyth my-self fallyng at gret debat That I nad power to wythstand my wo, Knowyng fully how fortune was my fo, And I must nede of verrey force endure The vttirmest of all myn aventure; And then anon I gan remembre me How that I had bene hyndred here byfore, Wyth-outyn cause, by gret aduersyte— My troubly thoughtes encresyng more and more, My wofull hert constreyned me so sore That I ne couthe, as by [the] way of kynde, Myn heuynesse avoyde out of my mynde. And when I saw ther was non othir way But alway styll my fortune to abyde, The god of loue anon then gan I pray, That he vochesafe to be apon my syde. Wher-euer I went, he for to be my gyde; And of that thought I sodenly abrayde, Wyth humble hert, to hym ryght thus I sayde:— "O god of love, whos noble excellence May be not be told by possybilyte, Lat thys compleynt com to thyn audience, And se that I sumwhat rewarded be For my seruyse, though I vnworthy be, And syth I ment but trouth, as in thys case, Haue routh on me, and take me to thy grace." XIII Supplicacion Besechyth mekly in ryght lowly wyse, Now in hys nede your suget and seruaunt, That for as myche as he in your seruyse Hath of long tyme always (bene) attendaunt, Plese yt vnto your goodnes for to graunt The sayed besecher sumwhat of coumfort That he always may to your grace resort. Seyng also how that by many a way He hath full oft ben hyndyrd to your grace, By siche reportes, which I dar wele say, Can nought but hynder folkes in euery place, And yf he be not gylty in thys case, Of which he is so wrongfully accusyd, As reson wyll, lat hym be hold excusyd. And syth yt lyked to your hegh noblesse Hym to wythholde and take as for your man, Be ye to hym good lady and maistresse, And he shall do sych seruyse as he can. Hym thynketh long syth he thys seruyse bygan; Wherfore do now a charytable dede, To hys entent this lytill byll to spede. XIV Lettyr Myn hertys Ioy, and all myn hole plesaunce, Whom that I serue, and shall do faythfully, Wyth trew entent and humble obseruaunce, You for to plese in that I can treuly, Besechyng yow thys lytell byll and I May hertly wyth symplesse and drede Be recomawndyd to your goodlyhede, And yf ye lyst haue knowlech of my qwert I am in hele, god thankyd mot he be, As of body, but treuly not in hert, Nor nought shal be to tyme I may you se; But thynke that I as treuly wyll be he That for your ese shall do my payn and myght As thogh that I were dayly in your syght. I wryte to yow no more, for lak of space; But I beseche the only trinite Yow kepe and saue be support of hys grace, And be your sheld from all aduersyte. Go, lytill byll, and say, thou were wyth me Of verey trouth, as thou canst wele remembre, At myn vpryst, the fyft day of decembre. XV Compleynt The tyme so long, the payn ay more and more, That in what wyse It may be long enduryd I can not se, It smertyth now so sore That for I drede lest yt wyll not be curyd, Thus I of help stand fully vnassuryd, And so dyscomfyt in my wyttes alle That now I wot not what shal me byfalle. The hurt is sych, yt may not wele be sene, And eke yt standyth in so lytell space That ther nys salue ymade of herbys grene That can remeve yt from the deedly place, But yf that she lyst of her benyng grace Sum medycyn of almes to me dele, For in her lythe myn welfar and myn hele. To whom I pray, the flour of womanhede, "Haue mynde on me, which lythe in paynes bounde. Be ye my leche now, in my grettest nede, And staunche the bledyng of my pytous wounde. Syth that your grace may make me hole and sounde, Let me not dye, syth I so long haue seryed, For god yt knowyth I neuer so deserued." XVI Compleynt What shall I say, to whom shall I complayn? I wot not who wyll on my sorus rewe; And in no wyse I can not me restrayn But alle-way styll to be faythfull and trewe. How-euer I spede, thys mater must I sewe, For to myn hert sum tydyngs must I bryng, And coumforthles in aventurys newe, Thus to endure yt is a wondir thyng. So cam I forthe in-to a goodly playn, Wherof myn hertys rest I had a vowe, Among othir fair peple, in sertayn, I knelyd down, as was my deuyr dewe, Hys wofull maters hooly to constrewe; And sodenly alle thay bygan to syng; Thay rought of me no more than of a rewe, Thus to endure yt is a wondir thyng. And vpon thys I turnyd hom agayn, Vn-to myn hert wyth visage pale of hewe. "I trow," quod he, "thy labour ys in vayn;" And I answerd that I non othir knewe.— "Lo, yit," quod he, "my colour shal be blewe, That folke may know of my stedfast lyuyng." But for to thynke how my sorous renewe, Thus to endure yt is a wondir thyng. XVII Lettyr My best belouyd lady and maistresse, To whom I must of verey ryght obey, I, wofull wyght, lyuyng in heuynesse, Wyth-out coumfort, I wot nat what to say; As oftyn tyme as thought ymagyn may, Wyth hert, body, my trouth and my seruyse, I recomawnde me in ryght lowly wyse. And yf it please yow to your gentyllesse To haue knowlech as of my pore estate, Myn hert ys seke, and lythe in gret dystresse, Wyth-outyn help of Ioy full desperate. I seke refuyt, it comyth alle to late. That I wold faynest haue, ther-of I fayle, And though I playn, yt is to non avayle. But your presence wold put alle thys away And make me hole of alle myn gret greuaunce; Wher-for to god wyth all myn hert I pray To sende yt sone, and yit be hys plesaunce. For, trysteth treuly, in my remembraunce Is non so mych as only your parsone, That knowyth god, that made us euerychone. I wryte no more, but god in trinite He be your guerdon of hys [hye] goodnesse, And be your sheld from all aduersyte From mysfortune and from alle hevynesse, Long endure in Ioie and in gladnesse. Wrytyn in hast of verey trouth to say, At Space. In the margin some hand inserts the assumpcion. vpon our lady day. XVIII Compleynt Not far fro marche, in the ende of feueryere, Allon I went vpon myn own dysport By a ryuere, that ran full fayr and clere, Whiche in spirytys dyd me gret coumfort, And to my mynde anon ther gan resort Ryght heuy thoughtys, which, in sothfastnesse, Cam vn-to me of ryght ȝret vnkyndnesse. And as I went, I gan remembre me How long I had contynude my seruyse Wyth carefull thought, and gret aduersyte, And guerdonless, lo, sych was myn offyse; The world ys straunge, and now yt ys the guyse Who that doth best aqwyte hym in hys trouthe Shall sunnest be foryot, and that ys routhe. Thys dar I say, and faythfully assure, That wyllyngly I neuer dyd trespace; And in thys lyfe I may noght long endure Wyth-out coumfort or tryst of byttir grace. Pyte is lost,—this is a straunge case— And forthermore, sich ys myn happy chaunce, What-euer I do, yt ys gret dysplesaunce. Fortune vnstable, this is thyn affray, To cause debat, wher non was sene byfore, Thyn olde custum, I se, wyll neuer away, For of thy fauour ys but esy store. Thus went I forthe wyth many syghynges sore, And wyth my-self full fest I countirpletyd, That for my trouth I shuld be thus entretyd. But for alle thys, my wyll and myn entent Shall stylle abyde as it hath done alway; And how that euer I haue my seruyse spent, I wouchewelsafe I can no forthir say. But yit I hope to god, to see that day That thouth shall reynge, and (haue) the gouernaunce, And hertys trew to lyue in thair plesaunce. XIX How þe louer ys sett to serve the floure. Title from old table of contents. Myn hert ys set, and all myn hole entent To serue this flour in my most humble wyse, As faythfully as can be thought or ment, Wyth-out feynyng or slouthe in my seruyse, For wytt the wele, yt ys a paradyse To se this flour when yt bygyn to sprede, Wyth colours fressh ennewyd white and rede. And for the fayth I owe vn-to thys flour, I must of reson do my obseruaunce To flours all, both now and euery our, Syth forune lyst that yt shuld be my chaunce, If that I couthe do seruyse of pleasaunce. Thus am I set and shall be tyll I sterue, And for o flour all othyr for to serue. So wolde god, that my symple connyng Ware sufficiaunt this goodly flour to prayse, For as to me ys non so ryche a thyng That able were this flour to countirpayse. O noble Chaucer, passyd ben thy dayse, Off poetrye ynamyd worthyest, And of makyng in alle othir days the best. Now thou art gon, thyn helpe I may not haue; Wherfor to god I pray, ryght specially, Syth thou art ded, and buryde in thy graue, That on thy sowle hym lyst to haue mercy. And to the monke of bury now speke I,— For thy connyng, ys syche, and eke thy grace, After Chaucer to occupye his place. Besechyng the my penne enlumyne This is certainly a burlesque of Lydgate's style. This flour to prayse, as I before haue ment, And of these lettyrs let thy colours shyne This byll to forthir after myn entent; For glad am I that fortune lyst assent So to ordeyn that yt shuld be myn vre The flours to chese as by myn aventure. Wher-as ye say, that loue ys but dotage, Of verey reson that may not be trew; For euery man that hath a good corage Must louer be,—thys wold I that ye knew. Who louyth wele, all vertu will hym sew; This is certainly a parody on the moral poem by Lydgate, with the refrain, "Who sueth vertu, vertu he shall leere." (Halliwell, Minor Poems of Lydgate, 1842, pp. 216-220.) Wherfor I rede, and counsail yow expresse, As for thys mater, take non heuynesse. These clerkys wyse, ye say were brought full lowe, And mad full tame, for alle thair sotelte;— Now am I glad, yt shall ryght wele be know That loue ys of so grete autoryte, Wherfor I lat yow wyt, as semeth me, It is your part in euery maner wyse Of trew louers to forther the seruyse. And of women ye say ryght as ye lyst, That trouth in hem may but a while endure, Cf. Lydgate's poem, They that nowhile endure. And counsail eke that men shuld hem not tryst, And how they be vnstedfast of nature. What causeth this? for euery creature That ys gylty, and knowyth thaym-self coulpable Demyth alle other [to] thair case semblable. And be your bokys I put case that ye knewe Mych of this mater whiche that ye haue myned, Yit god defende, that euerythyng were trew That clerkes wryte, for then myght thys be preuyd, That ye haue sayd which wyll not be byleuyd, I late yow wyt, for trysteth verely, In your conseyt yt is an eresy. A, fye, for schame, O thou envyous man: Thynk whens thou MS. thom. came, and whider to repayr MS. rapayr. Hastow not sayd eke, that these women can Laugh and loue nat? Cf. Oxford Chaucer, vol. VII, no. XIV, l. 19; "For they can laugh and love nat." Parde, yt it not fair. Thy corupt speche enfectyth alle the air; Knoke on thy brest, repent [the] now and euer Ayen ther-wyth, and say, thou saydyst yt neuer. Thynk fully this, and hold yt for no fable, That fayth in women hath his dwellyng-place; For out of her cam nought that was vnable, Saf man, that can not well say in no place. O thou vnhappy man, go hyde thy face; The court ys set, thy falshed is [out] tryed; Wyth-draw, I rede, for now thou art aspyed. If thou be wyse, yit do this after me; Be not to hasty, com not in presence, Lat thyn attourney sew and speke for the, Loke yf he can escuse thy necglygence; And forthermore, yit must thou recompence For alle that euer thou hast sayde byfore; Haue mynde of this, for now I wryte no more. XX Parlement O ye louers, which in gret heuynes Haue led your lyfe, by many a straunge way, Beth of good chere, and leue youre pensyfnesse, For now the god of loue, in gret aray, Of feueryere the two and twenty day Be good avyse bygan his parlement At Secret Pense, by thapoyntement; Wher wyt ye wele ys ryght an huge prese Of one and other sowters many on; And ther Cupyde sate MS. seyd. hye vpon the deese As lord and reuler of hem euerychon; And whan that they were setyd MS. sene. on and on, He, full avysed by hys prouydence, Made crye anon in opyn audience That no man shuld, of hy estate MS. hye state. ne of lowe, What euer he be, of payn of ponyschement, Apere in court, but yf that he be know A man ryght able for the parlement; Also, he chargyth by comaundement That nought be sayd, but yf yt be preuyd, That no man playn, but yf he fynd hym greuyd. And what that euer fall by aventure, To loue treuly ys hys comaundement, In wele or wo hys seruyse to endure, And take in gre all that fortune hath sent; And though yt fall sumwhat to his entent, As be hys labour and hys trew seruyse, Loke he be non avaunter in no wyse. And euery man comaundyd by and by To make his byll as he can best deuyse, And who that speketh, speke avysely, That to the court yt be no pregedyse. Also that euery man in faythfull wyse Be warnid thus, that no man hinder othir, But loue hys felowe as he wer his brothir. If tweyn loue one, this thapoynt[e]ment, Loke who can best deserue to stande in grace, But hyndre not to forther his entent, In avnter thay be bothe put out of place,— For syche a thyng thay may lyghtly purchace, When on ys wrothe, to say that ys contrarye; Malebouche in court ys a gret aduersayre. When thys was do, thay bysyd hem full fast Forthe MS. for the. to procede in othir maters grete; And ther thay founde, how that of tymes past Myche peple vsyd loue to countirplete Whiche lyeth not in thair powers for to trete, But yf the god lyst for to be so large To graunt his pardon as for thair dyscharge. This certainly refers directly to Poem XIX, and to Lydgate in particular, who was a monk, and therefore had no right to attack Love. And vpon this, thay present vp thair byllys Vpon her knes, wyth facys pale of hewe, Conpleynyng sore for many dyuerse skyllys: Sum sayed playnly, that fortune was vntrew, And sum bygan a long proces to sewe Of seuen yere enduryng in seruyse Wyth-out coumfort in any maner wyse. Sum sayd that thay were hyndyrd causeles, And how thay couthe not fynde no remedy; Sum sayd absence had causyd thair dystres, Thus were thay hurt, god wot, full pittuouslye; And wyth o woys thay sayd all openlye, Bothe one and othir, wyth a rewful mon, "Of Daunger we compleyn vs euerychon." And forth-wyth-alle thay go, by one assent, Vnto the god and prayd hym faythfully, To yive hem leue to vttyr thair entent Of that at thay desyr but ryghtwysly; Whereof the god, avysed thurug(h)ly Of thair compleyntys and thair sores olde, Yaf hem lycence to say what at thay wolde. Then he that was the speker for hem all Bygan to knele and sayde all openly, "Lord, and yt lyke to your estat royall, This we desyr, and pray yow hert(i)ly, To voyd daunger out of her coumpany In sich a wyse that he be not so bolde To come ayen to court, though that he wold. "Lo, thys ys alle theffect of MS. or. our entent Wherto we pray yow to be fauorable, Syth we be alle at your comaundement; Of verey trouth be now sumwhat tretable, And we shall graunt yow sich a good notable Frely to pay, and in no wyse rebate, For seuen yere to maynten your estat." And herevpon the god, full wele avysed, Thought MS. though. in his hert, as touchyng thair request It myght be this man were so dyspysed Wyth-outen cause, for he had made byhest To lusty Venus which he louyd best, That for no suyt to fauour thair entent, He should not voyde but yf she lyst assent. And forth-wyth-alle he yaf hem this answere, Sayng ryght thus:—"As touchyng your entent, I wyll that ye haue knowlech, alle in fere, Thys matere axyth gret avysement, And to yive a sodeyn Iugement Off that may touche my worship or my fame, Trewly, that were but sklaundyr to my name. "But trysteth wele, I wyll not reule me so; Wher-fore I wyll, be myn apoyntement For thys mater and thir causys mo, To Vivre-en-Ioye aiorn my parlement, And alle my peple, to be ther-at present, Off Apryle the nyne and twenty day, To make an ende wyth-outen more delay." Then was yt cryde eche man to kepe hys day, Off payn of all his seruyse forfettyng, And thay that felt hem hurt be any way There to apere, apeyn of doublyng, Then partyd they, and made no tary(e)ng; Sum glad in hert, and sum in heuy case, Eche creature resortyd to his place. Lenvoye O ye peple, that louers yow pretende, Prayeth hertly to Venus the goddesse, Off your matters sych tydynges yow to sende That fro hens-forth we take non hevynesse. C. ENGLISH POEMS IN FRENCH MSS. OF ORLÉANS

(From the Grenoble MS, printed by Champollion-Figeac, loc. cit., pp. 265-270).

 I Ayens the comyng of may That is full of lustynes Let us leve all hevynes, As fer as we can or may. Now is tym of myrth and play; Wynter weth hys ydylnes Is discomfet, as y ges, And redy to fle away, Ayens the comyng of may. Wherefore, ladys, I yow pray That ye take in yow gladnes, And do al your besynes To be mery nyght and day Ayens the comyng of may. II Go forth, myn hert, wyth my lady, Loke that ye spar no besynes To serue hyr wyth seche lowlynes That ye get hyr grace and mercy. Pray hys oftymes pryvely That sche kepe MS. guippe. trewly hyr promes, Go forth, myn hert, wyth my lady. I must, MS. most. as a hertles body, Abyde alone in hevines, And ye schal dwel MS. dowel. with your maistres In plesans glad and mery, Go forth, myn hert, wyth my lady. III For the reward of half a yere Two trewe louys upon the brest, Hyt ys ynow to brynge yn rest A hert that love hold in dangere. Whene he hath be serve w(h)at strangere To hym ys holyday and fest. For the reward of half a yere, etc. Though MS. Thousches sic. hyt be a juel ful dere And a charme for the tempest, Yet y conseille hym to be prest, And fore ayens the Warderere For the reward of half a yere, etc. IV Alas, mercy, wher shal myn hert yow fynd? Never had he wyth yow ful aqwaintans. Now com to hym, and put of hys grevans, Ellys ye be unto yowr frend unkynd. Mercy, he hath yow ewer MS. ewer you. in his mynd, Ons let hym MS. have. have sum confort of plesans. Alas, mercy, wher shal myn hert yow fynd? Let hym not deye, but mak at ons an ende MS. a vende. In al hys woo an Right hevy penans. Noght is the help that whyl hym avans; Slouth hys to me and ever com behynde. Alas, mercy, wher shal myn hert yow find? V Ye shal be payd MS. puyd. after your whylfulnes, And blame nothyng but your mysgouvernans, For when goodlove wold fayn had yow avans MS. nuans. Then went ye bak, wyth wyly fraichednes. I knew anon your sotyl wylenes, And your daunger, that was mad for a scans. Ye shal be payd MS. pauyd. after your whylfulnes. Ye might have been my lady and maistres Forever mor withoutyn MS. with on thym. varians, But now my hert, yn England or in France Ys MS. Ye. go, to seke other nyw besynes. Ye shal be payd MS. puyd. after your whylfulnes. VI So fayre, so fresche, so goodely on-to se, So wele dymeynet in al your governans, That to my hert it is a grete plesans Of your godenes, when y remembre me. An trustyth fully, wher that ever y be, Y wylle abyde undyr your obeyssance. So fayre, so fresche, so goodely on-to se. For yn my thought ther is nomo but ye, Whom y have servid wythout repentance, Wher-fore y pray yow, sethe to my grevance And put asyde all myn adversite. So fayre, so fresche, so goodely on-to se. VII O thou, fortune, which hast the gouvernaunce, See the Fairfax group, no. VIII, above. . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIII Myn hert hath send glad hop(e) in hys MS. speding. mesage Un-to confort, plesans, joye and spede I pray to god, that grace may hym lede MS. leeding. Wythout lettyng or daunger of passage. In cryst to fynd MS. fynding. profit and avauntage, Wyth MS. Wych.-yn short tym, the help of (al) hys nede. MS. neding. Myn hert hath send glad hop in his message Un-to comfort, plesans, joye and spede. Till þat he come, myn hert in ermytage Of thoght shal dwel MS. dweling. alone, God gyve him mede; And of wysshyng MS. wysshyngl. offtym MS. of tym. y MS. ys. shal hym fede, Glad hope folywing, and spede MS. speding. well thys viage. Myn hert hath send glad hope in his message. IX Whan shal thow come, glad hope, from your vyage? Thow hast y-taryed, MS. carydge, and so below, ll. 8, 14. to long many a day, For all confort MS. confordinge. is put fro me MS. my. away Tyll that I her tythinges of your message. Wher that hyt be MS. Hat that hade be. lettyng of thyn uassage Or tarying, MS, cariynger. alas, I can not say. When shal thow come, glad hope, from (thy vyage), Thow hast y-taryed, to long many a day. Who MS. How. knows fulwol þat I have gret damage In abydyng MS. abydynger. of the, that is no nay. MS. way. And tho fy, syng MS. syngling. and MS. et. dauns, or lagh and play; In blake MS. clake. mournyng is clothyd my corage. When shal thow come, glad hope from (thy vyage), Thow hast y-taryed, to long many a day. D. FROM MS. ROYAL 16 F. 11

Champollion Figeac, pp. 455-456

 X My hertly love is in your govenauns MS. et. And ever shal, whill that I lyven may. I pray to god, [that] I may see that day That we be knyt with thouthfull alyauns. Ye schal not fynd feynyng or vareauns, As in my part, that wyl I trewly say, My hertly love is in your gouernauns. . . . . . . . . . . . . XI Ne were my trewe innocent hert How ye hold with her aliauns That sometyme with wordes of plesauns Desceyved you under covert. Thynke, how the stroke of love cane MS. come. smert Without warnyng or deffiauns, Ne were my trewe innocent hert. And ye shall pryvely or appert See her by me in loves dauns, Wyth her faire femenyne contenauns, Ye shall never fro her astert, Ne were my trewe innocent hert. E. POEMS IN SUFFOLK'S MANNER I Balade coulourd and Reuersid

(MS. Arundel 26, fol. 32 v.)

 Honour and beaute, vertue and gentilnesse, Noblesse and bounte of grete valure, ffygure playsant with coulour and fresshenesse, Witnesse prudent, with connyng and norture, Humblesse with contynuance demure, Plente of this have ye, lo, souuerayn, Expresse soo youe fourmyd hath nature, Pyte savyng, ye want no thyng certayne. Creature noon hath more goodlynesse Goodenesse grete, so wred yow hath vre; ffeture and shap of faire lucresse, Mekenesse of Tesbe, as voide of all rigure, ffrendelynesse of mede, port of geynure, Pennolope of hestis, true and playne, Alcesse of Bounte lo, thus ar ye sure, Pite savyng ye want no thyng certayn. Endure me doth, lo, payne and hevynesse, Distresse and thought with trouble and Langour, Vusure stondyng of socour and Relesse; Maistres and lady, trustyng you of cure, Witnesse of God, I gre myn aduenture, Parde is falle me what joy or payne. Gladnesse or woo, thus I you ensure, Pytte savyng ye want no thyng certeyn. [Lenvoye]. Prynce[sse] I you beseche this rude meture Ye not disdayne, beholde with eyen MS. theym. tweyn, Witnesse though MS. thowe. I doo in this scripture, Pite Savyng ye want no thyng certeyne. Note initial and internal ryme in this poem. II Ballade from MS. Cam. Univ. Lib. Ff. 1. 6, fol. 178, probably by the same author. A mercy, fortune, haue pitee on me, And thynke that þou hast done gretely amysse, To parte asondre them whiche ought to be Alway in on, why hast þou doo thus? Haue I offendyd the, I? nay, ywysse; Then torne thy whele, and be my frende agayn, And sende me Ioy where I am nowe in payn. And thynke, what sorowe is the departyng Of ij trewe hertes louyng feithfully, ffor partyng is the most soroughfull thynge, To myn entent, that euer yet knewe I; Therfore I pray to the, Right hertely, To turne thy whele & be my frende agayn, And sende me Ioy where I am nowe in payn. ffor tyll we mete, I dare wel say for trouth That I shall neuer be in ease of herte, Wherfor I pray you to haue of me summe Routh And release me of all my paynes smerte. Nowe sith þou woste hit is nat my deserte, Then torne thy whele And be my frynde agayn, And sende me Ioy where I am nowe in payn. HENRY NOBLE MACCRACKEN.