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the iiii. and the beginnyng of the leuenth house, | cleaped the signet, for in what place that any

is nadere of the fiueth, and the beginning of the xii. house, is nadere of the vi. house.

An other maner of equacions of houses, by the astrolatie.

manne, is at any tyme of the yere, whan the Sonne by meuyng of the firmamente, cometh to his me ridionall place, than is it the verie middaie, that wee cleape noone, and therefore it is cleaped the line of middaie. Than take heede that euermore of twoo citees, or of twoo tounes, of whiche the one TAKE thyne ascendente, and than thou haste the approcheth nerer the east, than doeth the other fower angles, for well thou woteste, that thopposite toune, trust well that thilke twoo tounes bane is of thine ascendente, that is to saie, the beginnyng diuers meridians. Take kepe also, that the arche of the seventh hous, sit vpon the west orizont, and of the equinocciall, that is conteined and bounded, the beginnyng of the tenthe house, vpon the line betwene the twoo meridians, is cleaped the longimeridionall, and his opposite vpon the line of mid-tude of the toune. And if so be that twoo tounes night, than laie thy labell vppon the degree that ascendeth, and reken than fro the poinct of thy labell, all the degrees in the bordure, till that thou come to the meridional line, and departe all thilke degrees into thre euen partes, and take there the euen porcions of three other houses, for to late thy labell ouer euery of these three parties, and than thou might see by the labell in the zodiake, the beginning of these three houses fro the ascendent, that is to saie, the twelue next aboue the ascendente, and than the eleventh house and the x. house, vpon the meridional line, as I first saied the same wise werche, fro the ascendent, doune to the line of midnight and thus thou haste three houses, that is to sale, the beginning of the secoude, the thirde, and the fowerth house: than is the nadire of these three houses, the beginnyng of these iii houses that foloweth.

To finde the line meridionall, to dwell fixe in any certain place.

TAKE a rounde plate of metall, for warpyng the border the better, and make thereupon a iuste compace, a little within the bordure, and laie this rounde plate vpon an euen grounde, or some euen stone, or ou a euen stocke fixe in the ground, and laie it euen by a rule, in the centre of the compace, sticke an euen pinne or a wire vpright, the smaller the better, and set thy pinne or thy wire, by a plomme rules ende vpright euen, and let this pinne be no lenger than a quarter of thy diameter of the compace fro the pinne, and wait busilie aboute tenne or eleuen of the clocke, whan the Sonne sheweth, whan the shadow of the pinne entereth any thyng, within the cercle of the compace one heere brede, and make there a pricke with ynke: abide than still waityng on the Sonne, after one of the clocke, til that the shadowe of the pinne, or of the wire, passe any thyng out of the cercle or compace, bee it neuer so little, and sette there a pricke. Take than a compace and measure euen the middle, betwixt bothe prickes, and set there a pricke: take than a rule and drawe a

strike, euen fro the pinne vnto the middle prick, and take there the line meridional for enermore, as in the same place. And if thou draw a crosse ouerth warte the compace, iustly ouer the line meridionall, than haste thou east and west, and perconsequens the oppositife, that is southe and north. Discripcion of the meridionall line, and of the longitudes and latitudes, of citees and tounes, as well as of climates.

THIS line meridionall, is but a maner discripcion of a line ymagined, that passeth vpon the poles of the worlde, and by the signette of our hedde: and it is

haue meridian like, or one meridian, than is the distaunce of hym bothe like farre: and in this maner thei chaunge not hir meridian, but sothelie thei chaunge hir almicanteras, for the haunsyng of the pole, and the distaunce of the Sonne. The longitude of a climate maie be cleaped the space of the yearth, fro the beginnyng of the firste climate, vnto the laste ende of the same climate, euen directe against the pole artike, thus saie some aucthours. And some clerkes saie, that if men cleape the latitude of a center, the arche meridian, that is conteined or intercepte, betwixe the signet and the equinocciall, than thei saie, that the distaunce fro the equinocciall, vnto the ende of the climate, euen ayenst the pole artike, is the longitude of the climate for southe.

To knowe with what degree of the zodiake, that any planet ascend th on the orizonte, where his latitude be north, or south.

KNOWE by thyne alminacke, the degree of the ecliptike of any signe, in which that the planette is rekened for to bee, and that is cleped the degree of his longitude. And know also the degree of his latitude, fro the cliptike, north or south, and by these ensamples folowing in especialle, thou majeste wirche with euery signe of the zodiake. The lon

gitude perauenture of Uenus, or of an other planet was of Capricorne, and the latitude of hem northward degrees, fro the ecliptike line, than tooke I subtil compas, and cleped the one poinct of my compace A, and that other F. than tooke I the poinct of A, and set it in the ecliptike line, and my that is to saie, in the ende of Capricorne, and than zodiake in the degree of the longitute of heddes, bicause that the altitude was north, vpon the latiset I the poinct of F, upwarde in the same signe, tude of Uenus, that is to saie, in the degre fro the hed of Capricorn, and thus haue I the degrees betwixe my twoo prickes, than laied I doune softlie my compace, and set the degree of the longitude vpon the orizont, than toke I and waxed my 'abel, the pricke of my compace, than toke I this forsaid in maner of a paire of tables, to receine distinctly labell, and laied it fixe ouer the degree of my longitude, than toke I vp my compace, and the poinct of A, in the waxe of my labell, as I coud gesse, ouer the cliptike line, in the ende of the longitude I set the poinct ouer end long on the labell, vpon the space of the latitude inwarde, and on the zodiake, that is to say, northward fro the ecliptike: than laied I doun my compace, and loked well in the waie vpon thecliptike of A, and F, than tourned I my reete, till that the pricke of F, sate vpon the orizont, than sawe I well, that the bodie of Uenus in her latitude of degrees septemtrionals, ascendeth

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in the ende of degree, fro the hed of Capricorne. | sixte parte of Ix. than is a foote the altitude of And note that in this maner, thou mightest werch the toure, but if it fall vpon an other poincte, as with any latitude septentrionall in al signes: but thus. It falleth on sixe at the seconde takyng it, sothly the latitude meridionall, of a planet in Ca- whan it falleth on fower, than shalt thou find that pricorne maie not be take, bicause of the little sixe is the second parte of twelue, and fower is the space betwixe the ecliptike, and the bordure of third parte of twelue, by the thirde parte, that is the astrolabie, and sikerly in al other signes it to say, the space betwixte twoo prickes, twise the maie bee take. Also the degree perauenture of height of the toure, and if the difference wer three, Iupiter, or of any other planette, was in the first than would it be thre times the height. Et sie de degree of Pisces in longitude and his latitude was singulis. An other maner werchyng by umbra degrees meridionall. Than toke I the poinct of A. recta: If thou maiest not come by the bace of and set it in the first degree of Pisces on thecliptike, the toure, wirehe in this wise: sette thy rule vpon than set I the poinct dounward of F. in the same one, till thou see the altitude, and set at thy foote signe, bicause that the latitude was south degrees a pricke, and than set thy rule vpon twoo, and so that is to saie, fro the hed of Pisces, and thus haue dooe in the same maner: than looke what is the degrees bitwixe both prickes. Than set I the difference betwixe one and twoo, and thou shalte Than measure the space bedegree of the longitude, vpon the orizont, than fine that it is one. toke I my labell, and laied him fixe vpon the de- twixe the two prickes, and that is the twelue parte of the altitude of the toure, and so of all other. gree of longitude, than sette I the poinct of A. on my labell euen ouer the ecliptike line, in the ende of the degree of the longitude, and I sette the poincte of F. endelong on my labell, the space of degrees of the latitude outward fro the zodiake, that is to saie, southwarde fro the ecliptike towarde the bordure, and, than tourned I my reete, til the poincte of F. sate vpon the orizont, than sawe I well that the bodie of Iupiter, in his latitude of degrees meridionall, ascendeth with the degree of Pisces in horescopo. And in this maner thou maieste werche, with any latitude, as I saied first, saue in Capricorne. And thou wilte plie this crafte, with the arisyng of the Moone, looke thou reken well the course of houre by houre, for she dwelleth in a degree of her longitude but a little while, as thou woste well: but neuerthelesse, if thou legen well her verie meuyng by the tables, or after her course houre by houre, thou shalte doe well inough.

Umbra recta.

If thou wilt wirche with umbra recta, if thou might come to the base of the toure, in this maner shalt thon wirche: take the altitude of the toure with

bothe holes, so that the rule lie euen on a poirete. Basample, as thus. I see him through the poincte of fower, than mete I the space, betwixe me and the toure, and I find it twentie fote, than behold I how fower is to twelue, and I find it is the third part of twelue. Right so the space betwixe thee and the toure, is the thirde parte of the altitude of the toure: than thrise twentie foote, is the highest of the toure, with thaddicion of thine owne bodie fro thyne iye. If the rule fall on fiue, than is fiue tymes twelue, the highest of the toure.

Umbra versa.

If thou maieste not come to the base of the toure, and thou fixe hym through the nomber of one, set there a pricke at thy foote, than go nere the toure, and see hym through at the poincte of twoo, and set there an other pricke, and than beholde howe one hath hym to twelue, and thou shalte finde that he hath hym twelue sithes, than behold how twoo baue hym to xii, and thou shalte finde it sixe sithes, and therefore the space betwixe twoo prickes, is sixe times thyne altitude. And note that at the first altitude of one, thou settest a prick, and afterward whan thou seest hym through at twoo, there thou settest a pricke, than thou findeste betwene Ix. foote, than thou shalte finde that tenne is the VOL. I.

Umbra recta.

If thy rule fall vppon the eighte poinct, on the right shadowe, than make the figure of eight, than loke howe moche space of the feete is betwixe thee and the toure, and multiplie that by twelue, and whan thou haste multiplied it by the same nomber, than deuide it by the nomber of eight, and kepe the residue, and adde thereto thy height vnto thyne iye, to the residue, and that shall be the verie heighte of the toure. And thus maieste thou woorche, on the same side from one to twelue, &c.

Umbra recta.

AN other maner of woorkyng vpon the same side. Looke vpon what poincte thy rule falleth, whan thou seest the toppe of the toure, through the twoo holes, and than mete the space from thy foote, to the base of the toure, and right as the nomber of the poincte, hath hymself to twelue, right so the mesure, betwixt thee and the toure, bath hym self to the height of the same toure. Ensample as thus. I sette case thy rule fall vpon eight, than is eight twoo thirde partes of twelue, so is the space twoo thirde partes of the toure.

Umbra versa.

To knowe the height, by the poincte of umbra
If the rule fall vpon iii. whan thou seest
versa.
the toppe of the toure sette a pricke there thy
foote standeth, and go nere till thou maiest see the
same toppe, at the poincte of iiii. and sette there
an other prick: than mete howe many foote is
betwixe the twoo prickes, and the height vp to
thyne iye, and that shall be the height of the
toure. And note, that iii. is the fowerth part of
xii. and iiii. is the thirde part of xii. Now passeth
iiii. the nomber of in. by distance of i. therefore
the same space with thy height to thy iye, is the
And if it were so that there
height of the toure,
were twoo or three distaunces in the nombers, so
should the measure betwixe the prickes, by twise
or thrise the height of the toure.

Umbra recta.

To know the height, if thou maiest not come of the bace of the thing, set thy rule vpon what poinct thou wilte, so that thou maist se the toppe of the thing, through the twoo holes, and make a marke, Hh

there as thy foote standeth, and go nere or ferther, till thou maieste see it through an other poinct and make there an other marke, and looke what difference is betwixe the twoo poinctes in the scale, and right as that difference bath hym to xii. right so the spaces betwixe the twoo markes hath hym to the height of the thing. Ensample. I set the that thou seest it through the poinct of iiii. and after at the poinct of iii. Now passeth the nomber of iiii. the nomber of iii. the distaunce of i. and right as this difference of one, hath hymself to xii. right so the measure betwixe bothe the markes, hath him to the height of the same thing puttyng therto the height of thy self to thine iye. And thus maiest thou werke from i. to xii.

case,

Umbra versa.

FERTHERMORE, if thou wilte knowe in umbra versa, by the crafte of umbra recta, I suppose to take thine altitude at the poinct of iiii. and makest a marke, and than thou goest nere, till thou haste it at the poincte of iii. and makest there an other marke, than must thou deuide 144. by 4. the nomber that cometh thereof shall be 36. and after deuide 144. by 3. and the nomber that cometh thereof is 48. than loke what difference is betwixe 36. and 48. and that shalt thou finde 12. and right as 12. hath hym to 12. so the space betwixe the twoo prickes, hath him to the altitude of the thyng.

HIERE ENDETH THE CONCLUSIONS OF THE ASTROLABIE.

THE PROLOGUE

OF THE TESTAMENT OF LOUE.

MANY men there ben, that with eeres openly sprad so moche swalowen the deliciousnesse of iestes and of ryme, by queynt knittinge coloures, that of the goodnesse or of the badnesse of the sentence, take they litel hede or els none.

Sothelye dulle witte and a thoughtfull soule so sore haue mined and graffed in my spirites, that soche craft of enditinge woll nat ben of mine acquaintance. And for rude wordes and boistous percen the herte of the herer to the inrest point, and planten there the sentence of thinges, so that with litel helpe it is able to spring. This booke that nothynge hath of the great floode of wytte, ne of semelyche colours, is doluen with rude wordes and boistous, and so drawe togider to maken the calthers therof ben the more redy to heut sen

their poisye mater in French, of whiche speche
the Freuche men haue as good a fantasye as we
haue in heryng of Frenche mens Englishe. And
many termes ther ben in Englyshe, whiche vnneth
we Englishe men connen declare the knowleginge:
how should than a Frenche man borne, soche termes
conne iumpere in his matter, but as the iay cha-
tereth Englishe. Right so truely the vnderstandyng
of Englishmen woll not stretche to the priuye
termes in Frenche, what so euer wee bosten of
Let than clerkes enditen in
straunge langage.
Latin, for they haue the propertie of science, and
the knowinge in that facultie: and lette Freuche-
men in their Frenche also enditen their queinte
termes, for it is kyndely to their mouthes, and
let vs shewe our fantasies in soche wordes as we
lerneden of our dames tonge. And although this
booke be lytel thank worthy for the leudnesse in
trauail, yet soch writing exiten men to thilke thinges
that ben necessarie: for euery man therby may as
by a perpetual myrrour sene the vices or vertues
of other, in whyche thynge lightly may be cou-
ceiued to escheue perils, and necessaries to catch,
after as anentures haue fallen to other people or
persons. Certes the souerainst thinge of desire and
most creature reasonable, haue or els shuld haue
full appetite to their perfectyon: vnreasonable
beestes mowen not, sithe reason hath in bem no
workinge: than reasonable that wol not, is com-
parisoned to vnreasonable, and made lyke hem.
Forsothe the most soueraine and finall perfection
of man is in knowynge of a sothe, withouten any
entent deceiuable, and in loue of one very God,
that is inchaungeable, that is to knowe, and loue
his creature.

Nowe principally the meane to brynge in knowleging and louynge his creatour, is the consideracyon of thynges made by the creatour, wherthrough be thylke thinges that ben made, vnderstandynge here to our wyttes, arne the vnsene pryneties of God made to vs syghtful and knowinge, in our contemplacion and vnderstondinge. These thinges than forsoth moche bringen vs to the ful knowleginge sothe, and to the parfyte loue of the maker of heuenly thynges. Lo Dauid saith: thou haste delited me in makinge, as who saith, to haue delite in the tune how God hath lent me in consideracion of thy makinge. Wherof Aristotle in the boke de Animalibus, saieth to naturell philosophers: it is a greate likynge in loue of knowing their creatoure: and also in knowinge of causes inkindelye thynges considred. Forsothe the formes of kindelye thinges and the shap, a great kyndely loue me shulde haue to the werkman that hem made. The crafte of a werkman is shewed in the werk. Herefore trulie the philosophers with a Some men there ben, that painten with colours lyuely studie manie noble thinges, righte precious riche and some with vers, as with red inke, and and worthy to memorye writen, and by a great some with coles and chalke: and yet is there good swetande trauaille to vs letten of causes the promatter to the leude people of thylke chalkye pur-perties in natures of thinges, to whiche therfore treyture, as hem thinketh for the tyme, and after-philosophers it was more ioy, more lykinge, more ward the syght of the better colours yeuen to hem more ioye for the first leudenesse. So sothly this leude clowdy occupacyon is not to prayse, but by the leude, for comenly leude leudenesse commemdeth. Eke it shal yeue sight that other precyous thynges shall be the more in reuerence. In Latin and French hath many soueraine wittes had great delyte to endite, and haue many noble thinges fulfilde, but certes there ben some that speaken

tence.

herty lust in kindely vertues and matters of reason the perfection by busy study to knowe, than to hane had all the treasour, al the richesse, al the vaine glory that the passed emperours, princes, or kinges hadden. Therfore the names of hem in the booke of perpetuall memorie in vertue and peace arne writen, and in the contrarie, that is to saine, in Styxe the foule pitte of Helle arne thilke pressed that soch goodnes hated. And bicause

this booke shall be of loue, and the prime causes of stering in that doinge with passions and diseases for wantinge of desire, I wil that this booke be cleped the Testament of Loue.

But now thou reder, who is thilke that will not in scorne laughe, to here a dwarfe or els halfe a man, say he wil rende out the swerde of Hercules handes. And also he shulde set Hercules gades a mile yet ferther, and ouer that he had power of strength to pull vp the spere, that Alisander the noble might neuer wagge.

And that passinge al thinge to ben mayster of Fraunce by might, there as the noble gracious Edwarde the thirde for all his great prowesse in victories ne might al yet conquere.

sheweth sorowful yexynge from within Thus from my confort I ginne to spille, sith she that shulde me solace, is ferre fro my presence. Certes her absence is to me an Hell, my sternynge death thus in wo it myneth, that endelesse care is throughout myne herte clenched, blysse of my ioye, that ofte me murthed is turned into galle, to thynke on thing that may not at my wil in armes me hent. Mirth is chaunged into tene, whan swink is there continually, that rest was wont to soiourne and haue dwellynge place. Thus witlesse thonghtfull, sightlesse lokynge, I endure my penaunce in this derke prisoune, caitisned fro frendshippe and acquaintaunce, and forsaken of al that any worde dare speake. Straunge hath by way of intrucioun made his home there me shulde be, yf reason were herde as he shulde. Neuer the later yet hertly lady precyous Margarit, haue minde on thy seruaunte, and thynke on his disease, howe lightles he lyueth, sithe the beames brenende in loue of thin eien arn so bewet, that worldes and cloude atwene vs twey wol not suffre my thoughtes of hem to be enlumyned. Thinke that one vertue of a Margarite precious is amonges manye other the sorowfull to comforte, yet wil of that me sorowful to comforte, is my luste to haue nought els at this tyme, deede ne death, ne no maner traueylle hath, no power myne herte so moche to fade, as shulde to here of a twincklinge in your disease. Ah, God forbede that, but yet lete me dey, let me sterue withouten any measure of penaunce, rather than myne hertely thinking comforte in ought were diseased. What may my seruice aueile in absence of her, that my seruice shulde accepte? is this nat endelesse sorowe to thinke? Yes, yes God wote, myne herte breaketh nie a sonder, how should the ground without kindly noriture, bringen forth any fruites? how should a ship withoten a sterne in the great sea be gouerned? how shold I withouten my blisse, my herte, my desire, my ioye, my goodnesse, endure in this contrarious prison, that thinke euery houre in the daie, an hundred winter? wel maie now Eue sain to me Adam, in sorowe fallen from wealthe, driuen art thou out of Paradise, with sweate thy sustenaunce to be swinke. Depe in this pinyng pitte, with wo I ligge istocked, with chaines linked of care, and of tene. It is so hie from thens I lie, and the common yerth, there ne is cable in no land maked, that might stretche to me, to drawe me into blisse, ne steyers to steye on is none, so that without recouer endlesse, here to endure I wote well I purueide. O where art thou nowe frendship, that

Certes I wote well, ther shall be made more scorne and iape of me, that I so vnworthely clothed al togither in the cloudie cloude of vnconning, wil putten me in prees to speke of loue, or els of the causes in that matter, sithen al the grettest clerkes han had ynough to don, and as who saith gathered vp clene to forne hem, and with their sharp sithes of conning al mowen and made thereof great rekes and noble, ful of al plenties to fed me and many another. Enuye forsothe commendeth noughte his reason, that he hath in vain, be it neuer so trusty. And al though these noble repers, as good workmen and worthy their hier, han al draw and bounde vp in the sheues, and made many shockes, yet haue I ensample to gader the smale crommes, and fullin my walet of tho that fallen from the bourde among the smalle houndes, notwithstandinge the trauaile of the almoigner, that hath draw vp in the cloth al the remissailes, as trenchous, and the relief to bere to the almesse. Yet also haue I leue of the noble husbande Boece, all though I be a straunger of conuinge to come after his doctrine, and these great workmen, and glene my handfuls of the shedynge after their handes, and yf me faile ought of my ful, to encrease my porcion with that I shal drawe by priuyties out of shockes, a slye seruaunte in his owne helpe is often moche commended, knowynge of trouthe in causes of thynges, was more hardier in the firste sechers, and so sayth Aristotle, and lighter in vs that han followed after. For their passing study han fresshed our wittes, and oure vnderstandynge han excited in consideracion of trouth by sharpenes of their reasons. Utterly these thinges be no dremes ne iapes, to throwe to hogges, it is lyfelych meate for children of trouth, and as they me betiden whan I pilgramed out of my kith in wintere, whan the wether out of measure was boistous, and the wyld wind Borias as his kind asketh with dry-sometyme with laughande chere, madest bothe inge coldes, maked the wawes of the occian see so to arise vnkindely ouer the commune bankes that it was in point to spill all the erthe.

THUS ENDETH THE PROLOGUE, AND HEre after foLOWETH
THE FIRST BOKE OF THE TESTAMENT OF LOUE.

THE TESTAMENT OF LOUE. ALAS fortune alas, I that some tyme in delicious houres was wont to enioy blisful stoundes, am nowe dryne by vnhappy heuinesse to bewaile my sondrie yuels in tene. Trewlie I leue, in myn herte is writte of perdurable letters al the entencyons of lamentacion that now ben ynempned, for any maner disease outward in sobbyng maner,

face and countenaunce to me wardes? Truely nowe arte thou wente out of toune, but euer me thinketh, he weareth his old clothes, and that the soule, in the whiche the life of frendship was in, is drawen out from his other spirites. Now than farewell frendship, and farewell felawes, me thinketh ye all han taken your leaue: no force of you all

at ones.

But ladie of loue, ye wote what I mean, yet think on thy seruaunt, that for thy loue spilleth, all thynges haue I forsake, to folowen thine hestes: reward me with a thought though ye doe naught els. Remembraunce of loue, lith so sore vnder my breste, that other thought cometh not in my mynde, but gladnesse to thinke on your goodnesse, and your merie chere, frendes and sorowe, to think

on your wretche and your daunger, from whiche | mewardes by a cloudie disease, all readie to make Christ me saue. My greate ioye it is to haue in stormes of tene, and the blisfull side halte still meditacions, the bounties, the vertues, the nobley awaiward, and woll it not suffer to mewardes to in you printed: sorowe and Hel comen at ones, turne: no force yet woll I not been conquered. to suppose that I be veined. Thus with care, sorowe, and tene am I shapt, min ende with death to make. Now good goodly thinke on this.

O, alas that your nobley so moche emong all other creatures, commended by folowyng streme, by al maner vertues, but there been wonderfull, I not whiche that let the flood to come into my soul, wherfore purely mated with sorowe through sought, my self I crie on your goodnes, to haue pitee on this caitife, that in the inrest degree of sorowe and disease is left, and without your goodlie will, from any help and recouery. These sorowes maie I not susteine, but if my sorowe should bee tolde, and to you werdes shewed, although moche space is betwene vs twaine, yet me thynketh that by soche icleinyng woordes, my disease ginneth eb. Truelie me thynketh that the soune of my lamentacions wepyng, is right now flowe into youre presence, and there crieth after mercie and grace, to whiche thynge me semeth, thee liste none answere to yene, but with a deinous chere, ye commaunded it to auoide, but God forbidde that any woorde should of you spryng, to haue so little ruth. Parde pitie and mercie, in euery Margarit is closed by kinde, emongs many other vertues, by qualities of comforte, but comfort is to me right naught worthe, withouten mercie and pitie of you alone whiche thinges hastly God me graunt for his mercie.

O wretched foole that I am fallen into folowe, the heate of my brenning tene hath me all defased: how should ye lady set prise on so foule filth my conning is thinne, my witte is exiled, like to a foole naturell, am I comparisoned. Truely ladie, but your mercie the more were. I wote well all my labor were in idell: your mercie than passeth right. God graunt that proposicion to be verified in me, so that by trust of good hope, I mowe come to the hauen of ease, and sith it is impossible, the colours of youre qualities to chaunge: and forsoth I wote well, wemme ne spot maie not abide, there so noble vertue haboundeth, so that the defasyng to you is verily imaginable, as countenance of goodnes what encreasing vertue, is so in you knit to abid by necessarie maner, yet if the riuers might fal, which is ayenst kinde, I woll well myn herte, ne should therefore naught flit, by the leste poinct of geometrie, so sadlie is it sonded, that awaie from your seruice in loue, maie he not departe. O loue, whan shall I been pleased? O charitie, whan shall I been eased? O good goodlie, whan shall the dice tourne? O fall of vertue, doe the chaunce of comforte, vpwarde to fall. O loue, whan wolt thou think on thy seruaunt? I can no REHEARSING these things and many other, without more, but here out cast of all welfare, abide the time or moment of rest, me semed for angu she of daie of my death, or els to see the sight that might disease, that all togither I was rauisshed, I can not all my wellynge sorowes voide, and of the floode tell how, but holly al my passions and felynges make an ebbe. These diseases mowen well by weren loste, as it semed for the time, and sodainly duresse of sorowe, make my life to vnbodie, and a maner of dreade, light in me al at ones, nought so for to die: but certes, ye ladie in a full per- soche feare as folke haue of an enemie, that were feccion of loue, been so knitte with my soule, that mightie, and would hem greue, or dooen hem disdeath male not thilke knotte vnbinde ne departe, ease: for I trowe this is wel knowe to many perso that ye and my soulle together is endlesse, in sones, that otherwhile if a man be in his soueraines blisse should dwel, and there shall my soule at the presence, a maner of ferdnesse creapeth in his full been eased, that he maie haue your presence, herte, not for harme, but of goodlie subieccion : to shewe the entent of his desires: ah dere God, namelie as men reden that aungelles been aferde that shall bee a greate ioye. Now yearthlie god- of our Sauiour in Heauen. And parde there ne is, desse, take regarde of thy seruaunt, though I be ne maie no passion of disease bee, but it is to feble, for thou art wonte to praise them better, meane, that aungelles been a dradde, not by frendes that would conserue in loue, all be he full meaner of drede, sithen thei been perfitly blissed, as affecthan kinges or princes, that woll not haue that cion of wonderfulnes, and by seruice of obedience, vertue in minde. Now precious Margarite, that soche ferde also han these louers in presence of what thy noble vertue, hast drawen me into loue their loues, and subiectes aforne their soueraines : firste, me wenyng thereof to haue blisse, as galle right so with ferdnesse, mine herte was caught. and aloes are so moche sprong, that sauour of And I sodainlie astoined, there entered into the swetenesse maie I not atast. Alas that your be- place, there I was lodged a ladie, the semeliche nigne iyen, in which that mercie semeth, to haue and moste goodlie to my sight, that euer to forne all his noriture, nill by no waie tourne the clere-appeared to any creature, and trulie in the blusnesse of mercie to mewardes. Alas that your brennande vertues, shinyng emonges all folke, and enluminyng all other people, by habundaunce of encreasyng, sheweth to me but smoke, and no light. These thinges to thinke in myne harte, maketh euery daie wepyng in myne iyen to renne. These liggen on my backe so sore, that importable burden me semeth on me backe to be charged, it maketh me backwarde to meue, whan my steppes by comon course euen forthe pretende: these thynges also on right side and lefte, haue me so enuolued with care, that wanhope of helpe is throughout me ronne truelie, and leue that gracelesse is my fortune, whiche that euer sheweth it

And

tring of her looke, she yaue gladness and comforte,
sodainly to all my wittes, and right so she doeth
to euery wight, that cometh in her presence.
for she was so goodlie (as me thought) mine herte
began somedele to be enbolded, and wext a little
hardie to speake, but yet with a quakynge voice,
as I durst, I salued her, and enquired what she
was, and why she so worthie to sight, dained to
enter into so foule a dongeon, and namely a prison,
without leaue of my kepers. For certes, although
the vertue of deedes of mercie, stretchen to visiten
the poore prisoners, and hem after that faculties
been had to comforte, me semed that I was so
ferre fallen into miserie and wretched hid caitif-

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