Redresse of sorow O Citherea
That with the stremys of thy playsaunt hete
Gladest the mounte of al Cirrea
Where thou hast chosen thy paleys and sete
Whos bright beames ben wesshen and wete
In the ryuer of Elycon the welle
Haue now pyte of that I shal you telle

And not desdayne ye of your benygnyte
My mortal woo O lady myn goddesse
Of grace and bounte & mercyful pyte
Benygnely to helpe and to redresse
And thaugh so be I can not wel expresse
The greuous harmes that I fele in my herte
Haue neuer yet the lesse mercy of my smerte

This is to sayne O cler heuenes light
That next the sonne sercled han your spere
Sith ye me hurte with your dredful myght
By influence of your beames clere
And that I by your seruyse now so dere
As ye me brought in to this maladye
Be ye gracyous and shape ye remedye

For in you hoolly lieth help of al this caas
And knowe best my sorow and al my peyne
For drede of deth, how I ne dar allas
To aren mercy ones, ne me compleyne
Now with your fyre her hert so constrayne
With oute more, or I deye atte leste
That she may witte what is my request

How I no thyng in al this world desire
But for to serur fully to myn ende
That goodly freshe so womanly of chere
Without chaunge whyle I haue lyf & mynde
And that ye wold suche grace sende
Of my seruyse that she not disdeyne
Sithen her to serue I may not me restreyne

And sith that hope me hath yeue hardynes
To loue her best and neuer to repente
Whylis that I lyue with al my besynes
To drede & serue, thaugh daunger neuer assente
And here vpon ye knowe myn entente
How I haue vowed fully in myn mynde
To ben her man, thaugh I no mercy fynde

For in my hert emprynted is so sore
Her shap her forme & al her semelynes
Her porte her chere, her godenes more & more
Her womanhed and eke her gentiles
Her trouth, her faith and her kyndnes
With alle vertues eche set in her degre
Ther is no lack, sauyng only of pyte

Her sad demenyng of wyl not variable
Of loke benygne, and rote of al plesance
And exemplayre to alle that wyl be stable
Discrete prudent of wisedom suffisance
Mirrour of witte ground of gouernance
A world of beaute compassed in her face
Whos persant loke doth thurgh my hert race

And ouer this wonder secrete and true
A wel of fredome and right bounteous
And euer encrecyng in vertu new & newe
Of speche goodly, and wonder gracyous
Deuoyd of pryde, to poure not despytous
And yf that I shortly shal not feyne
Saue vpon mercy I no thing compleyne

What wonder thenne, though I be with drede
Inly supprised for to axen grace
Of her that is quene of womanhede
For wel I wote in so high a place
Hit wil not be, therfore I ouer pace
And take lowly what wo I endure
Til she of pyte me take to her cure

But one auowe plainly here I make
That whethir so be, she do me lyue or deye
I wil not gruoche, but humbly hit take
And thanke god and wilfully obeye
For by my trouth my hert shal neuer reneye
For lyf ne deth mercy ne daunger
Of wil and thought to be at her desire

To ben as trewe as euer was antonyus
To cleopatre whyle hym lasteth breth
Or vnto thesbe yong Piramus
That was faithful found, til them deptid deth
Right so shal I til Antropos me sleth
For whele or woo her faithful man be found
Vnto my last, like as my hert is bound

To loue as wel as did Achilles
Vnto his laste the fair Polixene
Or as the grete famous Hercules
For dyanyre that felte the shott kene
Right so shal I saye right as I mene
Whyle that I lyue, her both drede and serue
For lack of mercy though she do me sterue

Now lady venus to whom nothing vnknowe
Is in the world hid, ne nought may be
For ther nys thing nether hye ne lowe
May be conceyled from your pryuete
Fro whom my menyng is not now secret
But wite fully that myn entent is true
And liche my trouthe now on my peyne rue

For more of grace than of presumpcion
I axe mercy, and no thing of dute
Of lowly humbles, with oute offencion
That ye enclyne of your benygnyte
Your audience vnto my humylyte
To graunte me that to you I clepe & calle
Sum day relees yet of my peynes alle

And sith ye haue the guerdon and the mede
Of alle louers pleinly in your honde
Now of grace and pyte take ye hede
Of my distrees, that am vnder your bonde
So lowly bound, as ye wel vnderstonde
In that place where I toke first my wounde
Of pyte suffre ye my helth may be founde

That liche as she me hurte with a sight
Right so with helth late me hur sustene
And as the stremes of her eyen bright
Whylom my hert with woundes sharp & kene
Thurgh persed haue and yet be fresh & grene
So as she me hurte, lete her me socoure
Or ellis certayn I may not long endure

For lack of speche I can say you no more
I haue mater but I can not pleyne
My witte is dull to tel al my sore
A mouth I haue, And yet for al my peyn
For want of wordes I may not now atteyn
To tel half, that doth my hert greue
Mercy abydyng, til she me list releue

But this theffect of my mater fynal
With deth or mercy relees for to fynde
For hert body thought lyf lust and al
With al my reson and al my ful mynde
And fyue wittes of on assent I bynde
To her seruyse with oute ony stryf
And make her pryncesse of my deth or lyf

And now I pray of routh and eke pyte
O goodly planet, O lady venus bright
That ye your sone of his deyte
Cupide I mene that with his dredful myght
And with his brond that is so clere of light
Her herte so to fyre and to marke
As ye me whylem brent with a sparke

That euenlich and with the same fyre
She may be hit, as I now brenne and melte
So that her herte be flamed with desire
That she may knowe by feruence hou I swelte
For of pyte plainly yf she felte
The self hete that doth myn hert enbrace
I hope of routh she will do me grace

And ther with al bemis as me thought
Towardes this man ful benyngely
Gan cast her eye, like as that she rought
Of his disease, and said ful goodly
Sith it is so, that thou so humbly
With out gruachyng our hestes liste obeye
Toward thyn help I wil anon pourueye

And eke my sone Cupyde that is so blynde
He shal be helpyng fully to performe
Your hool desire, that nothing be behynde
Ne shal be lefte, so we shal reforme
This pietous copleynt, that maketh the to morne
That she for whom thau sorowest most in hert
Shal thurgh hur mercy relece al thy smert

Whan she sceth tyme, thurgh our purueaunce
Be not to hasty, but suffre althing wele
For in abydyng, thurgh lowly obeyssaunce
Lyeth ful redres, of al that ye now fele
And she shal be as trewe as ony stele
To you allone, by our myght and grace
Yf ye list mekely abyde a lityl space

But vnderstande ye that al her cherising
Shal be grounded vpon honeste
That no wight shal by ony compacyng
Demen amys of hur in no degre
For neyther mercy, couth ner pyte
She shal not haue ne take of the non hede
Further than longeth vnto her womanhede

Be not astonyed of no wilfulnes
Ne not despeyred of this dissolucion
Late reson bridle lust by buxumnes
Without gruochyng or rebellyon
For ioye shal folowe al this passion
For who can suffre torment and endure
Ne may not faylle, but folowe shal his cure

For to fore alle she shal the louen best
So shal I her withoute offencion
By Influence enspire in her brest
In honest wyse with ful entencion
For tenclyne by clene affection
Her hert fully on the to haue routhe
Be cause I knowe that thou menest trouthe

Go now to hir where as she stant a syde
With humble chere, and put the in her grace
And al beforn lete hope be thy guyde
And thaugh that drede wold with the pace
Hit sitteth wel, but loke that thou arace
Out of thyn hert wanhop and despeire
To her presence er thou haue repeir

And mercy first shal thy way make
And honest menyng afore do thy message
To make pyte in her herte awake
And secretnes to further thy viage
With humble porte to her that is so sage
Shal menes be, and I my self also
Shal the fortune, or thy tale be do

Go forth anon, and be right good of chere
For specheles nothing mayst thou spede
Be good of trust & be no thing in were
Sith I my self shal helpen in this nede
For atte lest of her goodly hede
She shal to the her audience enclyne
And lowe the to her til thou thy tale fyne

For wel thou wost yf I shal not feyne
Withoute speche thou maist no mercy haue
For who that wil of his pryue peyne
Fully be cured his lyf to helpe and saue
He must mekely out of his hert graue
Discure his wound and shewe hit his leche
Or ellis deye for defaute of speche

For he that is in myschief reklees
To seche help I holde hym a wrecche
And she ne may thyn hert bryng in pees
But yf thy compleynt to hir hert strecche
Woldest thou be cured & wilt no salue fecche
Hit wil not be, for no wight may atteyne
To come to blys, yf he list lyue in peyne

Therfore attones go forth in humble wyse
To fore thy lady and lowly knele a doun
And in al trouthe thy wordes so deuyse
That she on the haue compassion
For she that is of so hye renoun
In al vertues as quene and souerayn
Of womanhed shal rue on thy payn

And whan the goddes this lesson had told
Aboute me so I gan behold
Right so a stoned stode in a traunce
To se the maner and contenance
And al the chere of this woful man
That was of hue dedely pale and wan
With drede supprised in his owne thought

Makyng chere as thaugh he rought nought
Of lyf ne deth ne what so hym betyde
So moche fere he had on euery side
To put hym forth to tel his peyne
Vnto his lady, other to compleyne
What woo he felt torment or disese
What dedely sorow his hert dide sese
For couth of whiche his wo as I endite
My penne I fele quaken as I wryte
Of hym I had so grete compassion
For to reherce his weymentacion
That vnnethe, though I with my self stryue
I want connyng his peynes to discryue
Allas to whom shal I for help calle
Not to the muses for cause they ben alle
Help of right in Ioye and not in woo
And in matiers that they delite also
Wherfore they nyl as now directe my style
Nor me enspiren Alas the hard whyle
I can no further but to the siphon
And to her suster to calle help vpon
That be goddesses of torment and peyne
Nowe lete your teris in to myn Inke reyne

With woful wordes my paper for to blotte
This woful mater not to peynt, but spotte
To tel the maner of this dredeful man
Vpon his complaynt whan he first began
To tel his lady whan he gan declare
His hid sorowis, and his euel fare
That at his herte constreyned so sore
Theffect of whiche was this withoute more

Pryncesse of yougth & flour of gentilesse
Ensample of vertu ground of curtesye
Of beaute rote quene and eke maistres
To alle women how they shal hem gye
And sothfast mirrour texemplifye
The right way of port and of womanhede
What I shal saye, of mercy take ye hede
Besechyng first vnto your hye nobles
With quakyng hert of my Inward drede
Of grace and pyte & not of right wysnes
Of verrey couthe to help in this nede
This is to say O wel of goodlyhede
That I ne rekke thaugh ye do me deye
So ye list first to heven what I seye

The dredeful stroke the gret force and might
Of god cupide that noman may rebelle
So inwardly thurgh out myn hert right
Y perced hath that I ne may councele
Myn hid wound ne I ne may apele
Vnto no gretter, this mighty god so faste
You to serue hath me bound vnto my laste

That hert and all with out stryf ar yolde
For lyf or deth to your seruyse allone
Right as the goddesse myghty venus wolde
To for her mekely whan I made my mone
She me constrayned withoute chaunge anone
To your seruyse and neuer for to fayne
Wherso euer ye list to do me ease or payne

So that I can no thing but mercy crye
Of you my lady, and chaunge for no newe
That ye list godely to fore er that I dye
Of verray couthe vpon my paynes rue
For by my trouthe, and ye my peynes knewe
What is the cause of myne aduersite
On myn disese ye wolde haue pyte

For vnto you trewe and eke secre
I wil be founde to serue as I best can
And therwith al as lowly in eche degre
To you be allone as euer yet was man
Vnto his lady from the tyme I began
And shal so forth withouten ony sleuth
Whylis that I lyue, by god & by my trouth

For leuer I had to deyen sodenly
Than you offende in any maner wyse
And suffre paynes inward priuely
Than my seruyse as now ye shold dispyse
For I right neught wil axe in no wyse
But for your seruaunt ye wold me accepte
And whan I trespace, goodly me correcte

And for to graunte of mercy the prayer
Only of grace and womanly pyte
From day to day that I myght leve
You for to plese, and therwith al that ye
Whan I do mys, list for to teche me
In your seruyse hou that I may amende
From hensforth and neuer you offende

For vnto me it doth ynowh suffyse
That for your man ye wold me resseyue
Fully to ben as you lyst deuyse
And as ferforth as my wittes can conceyue
And therwith al liche as ye preue
That I be true, to guerdone me of grace
Or ellis to punysshe after my trespace

And yf so be that I may not atteyne
Vnto your mercy, yet graunte at the leste
In your seruyse for al my wo and peyne
That I may deyen after my beheste
This is al and som the fyn of my request
Outher with mercy your seruaunt to saue
Or mercyles that I may be begraue

And whan this benygne of her entent true
Conceyued hath the compleynt of this man
Right as the fresh rody Rose newe
Of her colour to wexen she began
Her blood astoned so from her herte ran
In to her face of verray femynyte
Thurgh honest drede abasshed was she

And humbly she began her eyen caste
Towardes hym of hir benygnyte
So that no word by her lippes past
For hast nor drede mercy ne pyte
For so demened she was in honeste
That vnaduysed no thing fro her stert
So moche of reson was compassed in her hert

Til atte last of whiche she did abreyd
Whan she is trouthe and menyng did fele
And vnto hym ful goodly spack and seyd
Of your behest and your menyng wele
And your seruyse so faithful euerydele
Whiche vnto me so lowly now ye offre
With al my herte, I thanke you of your profre

That for so moche your entent is sette
Only in vertu y bridled vnder drede
Ye must of right nedis face the bet
Of your request, and the better spede
But as for me I may of womanhede
No further graunte to you in myn entente
Than as my lady venus wil assente

For she wel knoweth I am not at my large
To doon right nought but by her ordynance
So am I drownd vnder her dredeful charge
Her lyste tobbeye withoute variaunce
But for my parte so hit be pleasaunce
Vnto the goddesse for trouth in your empryse
I you accepte fully to my seruyse

For she my herte hath in subiection
Whiche hoolly is youres & neuer shal repente
In thought ner dede in myn election
Witnes on venus that knoweth myn entent
Fully tobeye hir dome and Iugement
So as hir liste disposen and ordeyne
Right as she knoweth the trouth of vs tweyne

For vnto the tyme that venus list prouyde
To shape away for our hertis ease
Bothe ye and I mekely must abyde
To take at gree, and not of our disease
To grucche agayn til that she list tappease
Our hid woo so Iuly that constreyneth
From day to day and our hertis peyneth

For in abidyng of woo and al affraye
Who so can suffre is founden remedye
And for the beste ful ofte is made delaye
Er men be heled of their maladye
Wherfore as venus list this mater to gye
Leet vs agreen, and take al for the best
Til her liste, sette bothe our hertes in rest

For she is that byndeth and can constreyn
Hertes in one, this fortunate planete
And can relece louers of her peyn
To turne fully her bitter in to swete
Now blisful goddes doun fro thy sterry sete
Vs to fortune cast your stremes shene
Lyke as ye knowe, that we trouth mene

And ther with al as I myn eyen caste
For to perceyue the maner of these tweyne
To fore the goddesse mekely as they paste
Me thought I saw with a goldyn cheyne
Venus, anon enbrace and constreyne
Her bothe hertes in one, for to perseuere
Whilis that they lyue, and neuer to disseuere

Seyng right thus with a benygne chere
Sith it is so, ye be vnder my myght
My wil is thus, that ye my doughter dere
Ful accepte this man as it is right
Vnto your grace anon here in my sight
That euer hath ben so lowly you to serue
Hit is good shil your thank that he deserue

Your honour sauf and eke your womanhede
Hym to cherisshe, hit sitteth you right wele
Sith he is bounde vnder hope and drede
Amyd my cheyne that forged is of stele
Ye must of mercy shape that he fele
In yow som grace of his long seruyse
And that in hast lik as I shal deuyse

This is to sayn that ye taken hede
Hou he to you most faithful is and true
Ofal your seruauntes, & nothing for his mede
Of you ne asketh, but ye on hym rue
For he vowed hath to change for no newe
For lyf ne deth, for ioye ne for peyne
Ay to be youris, so as ye list ordeyne

Wherfore ye muste or els it were wrong
Vnto your grace fully hym receyue
In my presence, by cause he hath so long
Hooly ben youris, as ye may conceyue
That from your mercy, yf ye hym weyue
I wyl my silf recorden cruelte
In your persone, and gret lack of pyte

Late hym for his trouth fynde than agayn
For long seruyse, guerdon hym with grace
And late ye pyte weye doun his payn
For tyme is now daunger to arace
Out of your hert, and mercy in to pace
And loue for loue world wel beseme
To yeue agayn and this I plainly deme

And as for hym I wil ben his borowe
Of lowlihede and besy attendance
How he shal be bothe eue and morowe
Ful diligent to doon his obseruance
And euer awaytyng, you to do playsance
Wherfore my sone, listen and take hede
Fully tobeye, as I shal the rede

And first of all my will is that thou be
Feithful in hert and constant as a wal
True humble, meke and therwith al secre
With out change in partie or in all
And for no torment that the fallen shal
Tempest the not, but euer in stedfastnes
Rote thyn herte, and wyde doublenes

And furthermore haue in reuerence
These women al for thy lady sake
And suffre neuer that men hem do offence
For loue of one, but euermore vndertake
Hem to defende whether they slept or wake
And ay be redy to holden them party
Ayenst all tho that to hem haue enuye

Be curtais ay and lowly of thy speche
To riche and poure ay fressh & wel beseyn
And euer besy weyes for to seche
Alle true louers to relece of her peyn
Sith thou art one, & of no wight haue disdeyn
For loue hath power hertes for to daunte
And neuer for cherising, the to muche auaunte

Be lusty eke voyd of all tristesse
And take no thought but euer be iocound
And not to pensif for none heuynes
And with thy gladnes, lete sadnes ay be found
Whan woo approched, lete mirth most habound
As manhod ayid, and though thou fele smert
Late not to many knowen of thyn hert

And alle vertues besily thou sue
Vices eschewe for the loue of one
And for no tales thyn hert not renewe
Word is but wynd that shal soon ouergoon
What euer thou here be domb as ony stoon
And to answere to sone, not the delyte
For here she standeth that al this shal the quyte

And wherther thou be absent or in presence
None others beawte lete in thy hert myne
Sith I haue yeue hir of beaute excellence
Aboue al other in vertu for to shyne
And thynke hou in fyre men ar wont to fyne
This pured gold to put hit in assaye
So to the proue, thou art put in delaye

But tyme shal come thou shalt for thy suffrance
Be wel apaid and take for thy mede
Thy lyurs ioye and al thy suffisance
So that good hope alway thy bridel lede
Lete no dispeir hyndre the with drede
But ay thy trust vpon her mercy grounde
Sith none but she may thy sorowe sounde

Eche hour and tyme. weke. day and yere
Be lich faithful and vary not for lyte
Abyde a whyle and than of thy desire
The tyme neygheth that shal the most delyte
And late no sorow in thy hert byte
For no differring, sith thou for thy mede
Shal reioyse in pees the flour of womanhede

Thinke hou she is this worldis sonne & light
The sterre of beaute the flour eke of fairnes
Both crop and robe and eke the rubye bright
Hertes to glade, y troubled with derknes
And hou I haue made her, thin hertes Empresse
Be glad therfore to be vnder her bond
Now come ner doughter & take him by the hond

Vnto this syn that aftir alle these shouris
Of his torment he may be glad and light
Whan by your grace ye take hym to be youris
For euermore anon here in my sight
And eke I wil also as hit is right
Without more his langour for to lysse
In my presence anon that ye hym kysse

That ther may be of al your old smertis
A ful relees vnder ioye assured
And that one lok be of your bothe hertis
Shet with my keye of gold so wel pured
Only in signe that ye haue recured
Your hool desire here in this hooly place
Within my temple now in the yere of grace

Eternally be bounde of assuraunce
The knot is knyt, that may not be vnbounde
That alle the goddes of this aliaunce
Satorne. Joue. and Mars as it is founde
And eke Cupyde that first did you wounde
Shal bere record, and ouermore bewreke
On whiche of yow, his trouth first breke

So that by aspectes of their fair lokis
Withoute mercy shal fal the vengeance
For to be raced clene out of my bokis
On whiche of you be found of variance
Therfore attones setteth your plesance
Fully to ben whyle ye haue lyf and mynde
Of one acorde vnto your lyues ende

That yf the spiryte of newfanglenes
In ony wyse your hertes wold assaylle
To meue or styre to brynge in doublenes
Vpon your trouth to gyuen a bataylle
Lete not your corage ne your force faylle
Nor none assaultes you flitten or remeue
For vnassayed no man may trouth preue

For whyte is whitter yf it be set by black
And swete is swetter after bitternes
And falshed euer is dryue and put a back
Where trouthe is roted with doblenes
Without preue ther may be no sekernes
Of loue or hate and therfore of you two
Shal loue be more, for hit was bought with woo

And euery thing is had more in deynte
And more of pris whan it is dere bought
And eke loue stondeth more in sewrte
Whan it is to fore with payne woo & thought
Conquerd was first whan hit was sought
And euery conquest hath his excellence
In his poursute as it fyndeth resistence

And so to you more sote and agreable
Shal loue be found I do you plainly assure
Without grucchyng that ye were suffrable
So lowe so meke paciently to endure
That al attones I shal do now my cure
For now and euer your hertis so to bynde
That nought but deth shal the knot vnbynde

Now in this mater what shold I lenger dwelle
Come ye attones and do as I haue said
And first my doughter that ar of bounte welle
In hert and thought be glad & wel apayd
To done hym grace that shal & hath obeyd
Your lustes euer, and I wil for his sake
Of trouth to you be bounde and vndertake

And so forth within presence as they stand
To fore the goddes this fair and wele
Her humble seruant toke goodly by the hond
As he to fore her, mekely did knele
And kyssed hym after fulfillyng eueridele
From poynt to poynt in ful thryfty wyse
As ye to forn haue venus herd deuyse

Thus is this man to ioye and al plesance
From heuynes and from his peynes olde
Ful reconcyled, and hath ful suffisance
Of her that euer ment wel, and wold
That in good faith and I tel shold
The inward mirthes did her hertis brace
For al my lyf to telle, it were to lityl space

For he hath wonne hir that he loueth best
And she to grace hath take hym of pyte
And thus her hertes ben both set in rest
Withoute chaunge or mutabilite
And venus hath of her benygnyte
Confermed al what shal I lenger tary
These tweyne in one and neuer to vary

That for the ioye in the temple aboute
Of this acorde by grete solempnyte
Was laude and honour within & withoute
Yeue to venus, and to the deyte
Of god cupide, so that Caliope
And al her sustren in her armonye
Soon with songes the goddes did magnifye

And al attones with notes loud & sharp
They did her honour and her reuerence
And Orpheus among them with his harp
Gan strynges touche with his diligence
And Amphion that hath suche excellence
Of musyke ay dyde his besynes
To plese and queme venus the goddesse

Only for cause of the affinyte
Betwix these two not lusty to disseuere
And euery louer of lowe and hye degre
Gan venus pray fro thens forth and euer
That hool of them the loue may perseuere
Withouten ende in suche wyse as they gonne
And more encrece that hit of hard was wonne

And the goddes heryng this request
As she that knewe the clene entencion
Of bothe them tweyne made a bihest
Perpetuelly by confirmacion
Whylis they lyue of one affection
They shal endure ther is no more to sayne
That neyther shal haue mater to complayne

So ferfurth euermore in our eternal see
The goddes haue in our presence
Fully deuysed thurgh their deyte
And hooly concluded by her Influence
That by thair myght and Iuste prudence
The loue of hem by grace and eke fortune
With oute chaunge shal euermore contune

Of whiche graunt the temple enuiron
Thurgh hye comfort of them that were present
Anon was begun with a melodyous sowun
In name of tho that trouth in loue ment
A balade newe in ful good entent
To fore the goddes with notis londe and clere
Syngyng right this anon as ye shal here

Fayrest of sterres that with your persant light
And with the cherysyng of your stremes clere
Causen in loue hertes to be light
Only by shynyng of your glad spere
Now lawde and pryce O venus lady dere
Be to your name that haue without synne
This man fortuned his lady for to wynne

Willy planete O esperus so bright
That woful hertes can appese and stere
And euer ar redy by your grace & might
To helpe al tho that bye loue so dere
And haue power hertis to sette on fyre
Honour to you of al that ben here Inne
That haue this man his lady made to wynne

O mighty goddesse day sterre after nyght
Gladyng the morowe whan ye don appere
To wyde derknes by freshnes of your sight
Only with twinkyng of your plesaunt chere
To you we thanke louers that ben here
That ye this man and neuer for to twynne
Fortune haue, his lady for to wynne

And with the noyse an heuenly melodye
With that they made in her armonye
Thurgh out the temple for this mans sake
Out of my slepe anon I dyde awake
And for astonyed knewe as tho no rede
For sodeyn chaunge oppressed with drede
Me thought I was cast in a traunce
So clene away was tho my remembrance
Of alle my dreme, wherof gret thought & wo
I had in herte and nyst what was to doo
For heuynes for that I had lost the sight
Of her that I al the longe nyght
Had dremed of in myn aduision
Wherof I made grete lamentacion
Be cause I had neuer in my lyf beforn
Saw none so fair sith that I was born
For loue of whom so as I can endyte
I purpose here to make and to wryte
A lityl tretyse and processe make
In pryce of women only for her sake
Hem to comence as it is skyl and right
For her godenes with al my myght
Prayng to her that is so bounteuous

So ful of vertu and so gracyeus
Of womanhede and mercyful pyte
This symple tretyse for to take in gre
Til I haue leyzer vnto her hye renoun
For to expound my forsaid visioun
And tel in playn the signefyaunce
As it cometh to my remembraunce
So that her after my lady may hit loke
Now go thy way thou litil rude boke
To her presence as I the comande
And first of all thou me recomande
Vnto hir and to her excellence
And pray to hir, hit be non offence
Yf ony word in the be myssaid
Besechyng her, she be not euyl a paid
For as her list I wil the efte correcte
Whan that her liketh ageinward the directe
I mene that benygne and goodly of face
Now go thy way and put the in her grace