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ew tho,

 *Til at the laste a larke song above: 141
 *'I see,' quod she, 'the mighty god of love!
 *Lo! yond he cometh, I see his winges sprede!'

 _From_ A. 106.
 To seen that flour, as ye han herd devyse,

 Tho gan I loken endelong the mede, (B. 212)
 And saw him come, and in his hond a quene, 145
 Clothed in ryal abite al of grene.
 +A fret of gold she hadde next hir heer,
 +And up-on that a whyt coroun she beer
 With many floures, and I shal nat lye;
 For al the world, right as the dayesye 150
 +I-coroned is with whyte leves lyte,
 Swich were the floures of hir coroun whyte.
 For of o perle fyn and oriental
 +Hir whyte coroun was y-maked al;
 +For which the whyte coroun, above the grene, 155
 +Made hir lyk a daysie for to sene,
 Considered eek the fret of gold above.
 +Y-clothed was this mighty god of love
 Of silk, y-brouded ful of grene greves;
 A garlond on his heed of rose-leves 160
 *Steked al with lilie floures newe;
 *But of his face I can nat seyn the hewe.
 For sekirly his face shoon so brighte,
 *That with the gleem a-stoned was the sighte;
 A furlong-wey I mighte him nat beholde. 165
 But at the laste in hande I saw him holde
 +Two fyry dartes, as the gledes rede;
 And aungellich his wenges gan he sprede.
 +And al be that men seyn that blind is he,
 Al-gate me thoughte he mighte wel y-see; 170
 +For sternely on me he gan biholde,
 +So that his loking doth myn herte colde.
 +And by the hande he held the noble quene,
 +Corouned with whyte, and clothed al in grene,
 +So womanly, so benigne, and so meke, 175
 +That in this world, thogh that men wolde seke,
 +Half hir beautee shulde men nat finde
 +In creature that formed is by kinde,
 Hir name was Alceste the debonayre;
 I prey to god that ever falle she fayre! 180
 +For ne hadde confort been of hir presence,
 +I had be deed, withouten any defence,
 +For drede of Loves wordes and his chere,
 +As, whan tyme is, her-after ye shal here.
 Byhind this god of love, up-on this grene, 185
 +I saw cominge of ladyës nyntene
 +In ryal abite, a ful esy pas,
 +And after hem com of wemen swich a tras
 That, sin that god Adam made of erthe,
 The thredde part of wemen, ne the ferthe, 190
 +Ne wende I nat by possibilitee
 Hadden ever in this world y-be; (B. 289)
 +And trewe of love thise wemen were echoon.
 +Now whether was that a wonder thing or noon,
 +That, right anoon as that they gonne espye 195
 +This flour, which that I clepe the dayesye,
 +Ful sodeinly they stinten alle at-ones,
 And kneled adoun, as it were for the nones.
 *And after that they wenten in compas,
 *Daunsinge aboute this flour an esy pas, 200
 *And songen, as it were in carole-wyse,
 *This balade, which that I shal yow devyse.

 BALADE.

 +Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere;
 +Ester, ley them thy meknesse al a-doun;
 +Hyd, Ionathas, al thy frendly manere; 205
 +Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun,
 +Mak of your wyfhod no comparisoun;
 +Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude and Eleyne,
 Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.

 +Thy faire body, lat hit nat appere, 210
 +Lavyne; and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun,
 +And Polixene, that boghte love so dere,
 Eek Cleopatre, with al thy passioun,
 Hyde ye your trouthe in love and your renoun;
 And thou, Tisbe, that hast for love swich peyne: 215
 Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.

 Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle in-fere,
 Eek Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun,
 +And Canace, espyed by thy chere,
 Ysiphile, betrayed with Jasoun, 220
 Mak of your trouthe in love no bost ne soun;
 Nor Ypermistre or Adriane, ne pleyne;
 Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.

 Whan that this balade al y-songen was, (B. 270)

 _From_ A. 179-198.
 Hir name was Alceste the debonayre;
 I prey to god that ever falle she fayre! 180
 +For ne hadde confort been of hir presence,
 +I had be deed, withouten any defence,
 +For drede of Loves wordes and his chere,
 +As, whan tyme is, her-after ye shal here.
 Byhind this god of love, up-on this grene, 185
 +I saw cominge of ladyës nyntene
 +In ryal abite, a ful esy pas,
 +And after hem com of wemen swich a tras,
 That, sin that god Adam made of erthe,
 The thredde part of wemen, ne the ferthe, 190
 +Ne wende I nat by possibilitee
 Hadden ever in this world y-be.
 +And trewe of love these wemen were echoon.
 +Now whether was that a wonder thing or noon,
 +That, right anon as that they gonne espye 195
 +This flour, which that I clepe the dayesye,
 +Ful sodeinly they stinten alle atones,
 And kneled adoun, as it were for the nones.

 *Upon the softe and swote grene gras 225
 +They setten hem ful softely adoun, (B. 301)
 By ordre alle in compas, alle enveroun.
 First sat the god of love, and than this quene
 +With the whyte coroun, clad in grene;
 +And sithen al the remenant by and by, 230
 As they were of degree, ful curteisly;
 +Ne nat a word was spoken in the place
 +The mountance of a furlong-wey of space.
 I, lening faste by under a bente,
 +Abood, to knowen what this peple mente, 235
 +As stille as any stoon; til at the laste,
 The god of love on me his eye caste,
 And seyde, 'who resteth ther?' and I answerde
 Un-to his axing, whan that I him herde,
 +And seyde, 'sir, hit am I'; and cam him neer, 240
 +And salued him. Quod he, 'what dostow heer
 In my presence, and that so boldely?
 +For it were better worthy, trewely,
 A werm to comen in my sight than thou.'
 +'And why, sir,' quod I, 'and hit lyke yow?' 245
 +'For thou,' quod he, 'art ther-to nothing able.
 *My servaunts been alle wyse and honourable.
 Thou art my mortal fo, and me warreyest, (B. 322)
 +And of myne olde servaunts thou misseyest,
 +And hinderest hem with thy translacioun, 250
 And lettest folk to han devocioun
 +To serven me, and haldest hit folye
 To troste on me. Thou mayst hit nat denye;
 For in pleyn text, hit nedeth nat to glose,
 +Thou hast translated the Romauns of the Rose, 255
 +That is an heresye ageyns my lawe,
 +And makest wyse folk fro me withdrawe.
 *And thinkest in thy wit, that is ful cool.
 *That he nis but a verray propre fool
 *That loveth paramours, to harde and hote. 260
 *Wel wot I ther-by thou beginnest dote
 *As olde foles, whan hir spirit fayleth;
 *Than blame they folk, and wite nat what hem ayleth.
 *Hast thou nat mad in English eek the book
 How that Crisseyde Troilus forsook, (B. 332) 265
 In shewinge how that wemen han don mis?
 *But natheles, answere me now to this,
 *Why noldest thou as wel han seyd goodnesse
 *Of wemen, as thou hast seyd wikkednesse?
 *Was ther no good matere in thy minde, 270
 *Ne in alle thy bokes coudest thou nat finde
 *Sum story of wemen that were goode and trewe?
 *Yis! god wot, sixty bokes olde and newe
 *Hast thou thy-self, alle fulle of stories grete,
 *That bothe Romains and eek Grekes trete 275
 *Of sundry wemen, which lyf that they ladde,
 *And ever an hundred gode ageyn oon badde.
 *This knoweth god, and alle clerkes eke,
 *That usen swiche materes for to seke.
 *What seith Valerie, Titus, or Claudian? 280
 *What seith Ierome ageyns Iovinian?
 *How clene may

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