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ãẽĩõũỹ (vowel with “tilde” or overline for following m/n)
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The comforte of louers made and compyled by Steuen Hawes somtyme grome of the honourable chambre of our late souerayne lorde kynge Henry ye seuenth (whose soule god pardon). In the seconde yere of the reygne of our most naturall souerayne lorde kỹge Henry the eyght.
¶ The prohemye.
THe gentyll poetes / vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth / and cloke it subtylly
Harde is to cõstrue poetycall scryptures
They are so fayned / & made sẽtẽcyously
For som do wryte of loue by fables pryuely
Some do endyte / vpon good moralyte
Of chyualrous actes / done in antyquyte
Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt
To lordes and ladyes / as is theyr lykynge
Dyuers to moralyte / ben oft attendaunt
And many delyte to rede of louynge
Youth loueth aduenture / pleasure and lykynge
Aege foloweth polycy / sadnesse and prudence
Thus they do dyffre / eche in experyence
I lytell or nought / experte in this scyence
Compyle suche bokes / to deuoyde ydlenes
Besechynge the reders / with all my delygence
Where as I offende / for to correct doubtles
Submyttynge me to theyr grete gentylnes
As none hystoryagraffe / nor poete laureate
But gladly wolde folowe / the makynge of Lydgate
Fyrst noble Gower / moralytees dyde endyte
And after hym Cauncers / grete bokes delectable
Lyke a good phylozophre / meruaylously dyde wryte
After them Lydgate / the monke commendable
Made many wonderfull bokes moche profytable
But syth the are deed / & theyr bodyes layde in chest
I pray to god to gyue theyr soules good rest
¶ Finis prohemii.
Whan fayre was phebus / wt his bemes bryght
Amyddes of gemyny / aloft the fyrmament
Without blacke cloudes / castynge his pured lyght
With sorowe opprest / and grete incombrement
Remembrynge well / my lady excellent
Saynge o fortune helpe me to preuayle
For thou knowest all my paynfull trauayle
I went than musynge / in a medowe grene
Myselfe alone / amonge the floures in dede
With god aboue / the futertens is sene
To god I sayd / thou mayst my mater spede
And me rewarde / accordynge to my mede
Thou knowest the trouthe / I am to the true
Whan that thou lyst / thou mayst them all subdue
Who dyde preserue the yonge edyppus
Whiche sholde haue be slayne by calculacyon
To deuoyde grete thynges / the story sheweth vs
That were to come / by true reuelacyon
Takynge after theyr hole operacyon
In this edyppus / accordynge to affecte
Theyr cursed calkynge / holly to abiecte
Who dyde preserue / Ionas and moyses
Who dyde preserue yet many other mo
As the byble maketh mencyon doubles
Who dyde kepe Charles frome his euyll fo
Who was he / that euer coude do so
But god alone / than in lyke wyse maye he
Kepe me full sure / frome all inyquyte
Thus as I called to my remembraunce
Suche trewe examples / I tenderly dyde wepe
Remembrynge well / goddes hyghe ordynaũce
Syghynge full oft / with inwarde teres depe
Tyll at the last / I fell in to a slepe
And in this slepe / me thought I dyde repayre
My selfe alone / in to a garden fayre
This goodly gardyn / I dyde well beholde
Where I sawe a place / ryght gaye and gloryous
With golden turrettes / paynted many afolde
Lyke a place of pleasure moste solacyous
The wyndowes glased / with crystall precyous
The golden fanes / with wynde and melody
By dulcet sounde / and meruaylous armony
The knottes flagraunt / with aromatyke odoure
With goodly sprynges / of meruaylous mountaynes
I dyde than tast / the redolent lycoure
Moost clere and swete / of the goodly vaynes
Whiche dyde me ease / somwhat of my paynes
Tyll to me came / a lady of goodly age
Apareyled sadly / and demure of vysage
To me she sayd / me thynke ye are not well
ye haue caught colde / and do lyue in care
Tell me your mynde / now shortly euerydele
To layne the trouthe / I charge you to beware
I shall for you / a remedy prepare
Dyspeyre you not / for no thynge that is past
Tell me your mynde / and be nought agast
Alas madame / vnto her than I sayd
It is no wonder / of myne inwarde payne
yf that my herte be meruayllously dysmayde
My trouthe and loue / therof is cause certayne
Dyuers yeres ago / I dyde in mynde retayne
A lady yonge / a lady fayre of syght
Good //
wyse / and goodly / an holsome sterre of lyght
I durst not speke vnto her of my loue
Yet vnder coloure I dyuers bokes dyde make
Full pryuely / to come to my aboue
Thus many nyghtes / I watched for her sake
To her and to hers / my trouthe well to take
Without ony spotte / of ony maner yll
God knoweth all myn herte / my mynde & my wyll
The hygh dame nature / by her grete myght & power
Man / beest / and foule / in euery degre
Fro whens they came at euery maner houre
Dooth trye the trouthe / without duplycyte
For euery thynge must shewe the properte
Gentyll vngentyll / dame nature so well tryet
That all persones it openly espyeth
The lorde and knyght / delyteth for to here
Cronycles and storyes / of noble chyualry
The gentyll man gentylnes / for his passe tyme dere
The man of lawe / to here lawe truely
The yeman delyteth to talke of yomanry
The ploman his londe for to ere and sowe
Thus nature werketh / in hye degre and lowe
For yf there were one of the gentyll blode
Conuayde to yomanry for nourysshement
Dyscrecyon comen he sholde chaunge his mode
Though he knewe not / his parentes verament
Yet nature wolde werke / so by entendyment
That he sholde folowe / the condycyons doubtles
Of his true blode / by outwarde gentylnes
In all this worlde / ben but thynges twayne
As loue and hate / the trouth for to tell
And yf I sholde hate my lady certayne
Than worthy I were / to dye of deth cruell
Seynge all ladyes / that she doth excell
In beaute / grace / prudence and mekenes
What man on lyue / can more in one expres
yf she with me sholde take dyspleasure
Whiche loueth her by honoures desyre
What sholde she do / with suceh a creature
That hateth her / by inwarde fraude and yre
I yet a louer / do not so atyre
My fayth and hope / I put in her grace
Releace to graunt me / by good tyme and space
Thretened with sorowe / of may paynes grete
Thre yeres ago my ryght hande I dyde bynde
Fro my browes for fere / ye dropes doune dyde sweet
God knoweth all it was nothynge my mynde
Vnto no persone / I durst my her to vntwynde
yet the trouthe knowynge / the good gretest P
Maye me release / of all my / p / p / p / thre
Now ryght fayre lady / so sadde and demure
My mynde ye knowe / in euery maner thynge
I trust for trouthe / ye wyll not me dyscure
Sythes I haue shewed you without lesynge
At your request / the cause of my mournynge
Whiche abyde in sorowe / in my remembraunce
Without good conforte / saufe of esperaunce
Fayre sone sayd she / sythens I knowe your thought
your worde and dede / and here to be one
Dyspayre you not / for it auayleth nought
Ioye cometh after / whan the payne is gone
Conforte yourselfe / and muse not so alone
Doubt ye no thynge / but god wyll so agre
That at the last / ye shall your lady se
Be alwaye meke / let wysdome be your guyde
Aduenture for honoure / and put your selfe in preace
Clymbe not to fast / lest sodenly ye slyde
Lete god werke styll / he wyll your mynde encrece
Begynne no warre / be gladde to kepe the peace
Prepence no thynge / agaynst the honoure
Of ony lady / by fraudolent fauoure
Alas madame / vnto her than sayd I
Aboue .xx. woulues / dyde me touse and rent
Not longe agone / delynge moost shamefully
That by theyr tuggynge / my lyfe was nere spent
I dyde perceyue / somwhat of theyr entente
As the trouthe is knowen / vnto god aboue
My ladyes fader they dyde lytell loue
Seynge theyr falshode / and theyr subtylte
For fere of deth /where as I loued best
I dyde dysprayse / to knowe theyr cruelte
Somwhat to wysdome / accordynge to behest
Though that my body had but lytell rest
My herte was trewe vnto my ladyes blood
For all theyr dedes I thought no thynge but good
Some had wende the hous for to swepe
Nought was theyr besom / I holde it set on fyre
The inwarde wo in to my herte dyde crepe
To god aboue / I made my hole desyre
Saynge o good lorde of heuenly empyre
Let the mount with all braunches swete
Entyerly growe / god gyue vs grace to mete
Soma had wened for to haue made an ende
Of my bokes / before he hadde begynnynge
But all vayne they dyde so comprehende
Whan they of them lacke vnderstandynge
Vaynfull was & is theyr mysse contryuynge
Who lyst the trouthe of them for to enfuse
For the reed and whyte they wryte full true
Well sayd this lady I haue perceueraunce
Of our bokes / whiche that ye endyte
So as ye saye is all the cyrcumstaunce
Vnto the hyghe pleasure of the reed and the whyte
Which hath your trouth / and wyll you acquyte
Doubte ye no thynge / but at the last ye maye
Of your true mynde yet fynde a Ioyfull daye
Forsothe I sayd / dysdayne and straungenesse
I fere them sore / and fals reporte
I wolde they were / in warde all doutles
Lyke as I was / without conforte
Than wolde I thynke / my lady wolde resorte
Vnto dame mercy / my payne to consyder
God knoweth all / I wolde we were togyder
Though in meane season / of grene grasse I fede
It wolde not greue me / yf she knewe my heuynesse
My trauayle is grete / I praye god be my spede
To resyste the myght / of myn enmyes subtylnesse
Whiche awayte to take / me by theyr doublenesse
My wysdome is lytel / yet god may graunt me grace
Them to defende / in euery maner of cace
Lerne this she sayd / yf that you can by wytte
Of foes make frendes / they wyll be to you sure
yf that theyr frendshyp / be vnto you knytte
It is oft stedfast / and wyll longe endure
yf alwaye malyce / they wyll put in vre
No doubte it is / than god so hyght and stronge
Ful meruaylously / wyl soone reuenge theyr wronge
And now she sayd come on your waye with me
Unto a goodly toure whiche is solacyous
Beholde it yonder / full of felycyte
Quadrant it was / me thought full meruaylous
With golden turrettes / gaye and gloryous
Gargayled with greyhoũdes / and with many lyons
Made of fyne golde / with dyuers sondry dragons
The wyndowes byrall / without resplendysshaunt
The fayre yuery / coloured with grene
And all aboute there was dependaunt
Grete gargeyles of golde / full meruaylously besene
Neuer was made / a fayrer place I wene
The ryght excellent lady toke her intresse
Ryght so dyde I / by meruaylous swetnesse
Whan we came in / I dyde aboute beholde
The goodly temple / with pynacles vp sette
Wherin were ymages / of kynges all of golde
With dyuers scryptures / without ony lette
Aloft the roofe / were emeraudes full grette
Set in fyne golde / with amyable rudyes
Endented with dyamondes / and mayn turkyes
The wyndowes hystoried / with many noble kynges
The pyllers Iasper / dyuersed with asure
By pendaunt penacles / of many noble rynges
The pauement calcedony / beynge fayre and sure
The aras golde / with the story pure
Of the syche of thebes / with actes auenturous
Of ryght noble knyghtes / hardy and chyualrous
Than sayd this lady / I must now go hence
Passe ye tyme here / accordynge to your lykynge
It maye fortune / your lady of excellence
Wyll passe her tyme here / soone by walkynge
Than maye she se / your dolefull mournynge
And fare ye well / I maye no lenger tary
Marke well my lesson / and from it do not vary
Whan she was gone / the temple all alonge
I went my selfe / with syghtes grete and feruent
Alas I sayd / with inwarde paynes stronge
My herte doth blede / now all to torne and rent
For lacke of conforte / my herte is almost spent
O meruelous fortune / which hast ĩ loue me brought
Where is my conforte / that I so longe haue sought
O wonderfull loue / whiche fell vnto my lotte
O loue ryght clene / without ony thought vntrue
Syth thy fyrst louynge / not blemyssed with spotte
But euermore / the falseshede to extue
O dolorous payne / whiche doste renue
O pyteous herte / where is the helthe and boote
Of thy lady / that perst the at the roote
What thynge is loue / that causeth suche turment
From whens cometh it / me thynke it is good questyõ
Yf it be nature / from nature it is sent
Loue maye come of kynde by true affeccyon
Loue may appetyte / by naturall eleccyon
Than must loue nedes be / I perceyue it in mynde
A thynge fyrst gyuen / by the god of kynde
Alas o nature / why mayst not thou truely
Cause my lady loue / as thou hast me constrayned
Hath she power to domyne the vtterly
Why mayst not thou / cause her be somwhat payned
With natures moeuynge / for loue is not fayned
Alas for sorowe / why madest thou her so fayre
Without to loue / that she lyst soone repayre
Two thynges me conforte / euer in pryncypall
The fyrst be bokes / made in antyquyte
By Gower and Chauncers / poetes rethorycall
And Lydgate eke / by good auctoryte
Makynge mencyon / of the felycyte
Of my lady and me / by dame fortunes chaunce
To mete togyders / by wonderfull ordynaunce
The seconde is / where fortune dooth me brynge
In many placys / I se by prophecy
As in the storyes / of the olde buyldynge