35

36

A

BLYSFUL lyf thou says I lede,

Thou woldez knaw ther-of the stage;
Thow wost wel when thy perle con schede,
I wacz ful yong and tender of age,

Bot my lorde the lombe, thurgh hys godhede,
He toke myself to hys maryage,

Corounde me quene in blysse to brede,

In lenghe of dayez that ever schal wage,
And sesed in alle hys herytage

Hys lef is, I am holy hysse;

Hys prese, his prys and hys parage,
Is rote and grounde of all my blysse.'

B

LYSFUL,' quoth I, 'may this be true,
Dysplesez not if I speke errour;
Art thou the quene of hevenez blue,
That all thys worlde schal do honour?
of grewe,

We leven on marye that a grace
That ber a barne of vyrgyn flour,
The croune fro her quo moght remue,
But ho hir passed in sum favour?

Now for synglerty o hyr dousour,
We calle hyr fenyx of arraby,
That freles fleghe of hyr fasor,

§ VIII

A

BLISSFUL life thou sayest I lead,

and thou wouldst know the state thereof;
thou knowest when thy pearl fared forth,
I was so young and of tender age,

but through His godhead my Lord the Lamb
took me in marriage unto Himself,
crowned me queen to revel in bliss,

in length of days that ever shall last;
yea, each beloved holdeth in fee
His heritage; I am wholly His;
His praise, His price, His peerless rank

are root and ground of all my bliss.'

M

AY this be true, quoth I,' blessed maid,—
speak I amiss, be not displeased,-

§ VIII

art thou then queen of the heavens blue,

whom all this world must honour?

We believe in Mary of whom sprang grace,

who bore a child of virgin flower,

and who can take from her the crown,

save excelling her in worth?

But so peerless is her charm,

we call her the phoenix of Araby,
the bird immaculate of form,

like to that queen of courtesy.

38

37

ORTAYSE

COR

quene,' thenne sayde that gaye, Knelande to grounde, folde up hyr face,

< Makelez moder and myryest may,

Blessed bygynner of uch a grace!'
Thenne ros ho up and con restay,
And speke me towarde in that space :
Syr, fele here porchasez and fongez pray,
Bot supplantorez none with-inne thys place;
That emperise al hevenez hacz,

And urthe and helle in her bayly;
Of erytage yet non wyl ho chace,
For ho is quen of cortaysye.

THE

HE court of the kyndom of god alyve,
Hacz a property in hyt self beyng;

Alle that may ther-inne aryve

Of alle the reme is quen other kyng,

And never other yet schal depryve,

Bot uchon fayn of otherez hafyng,

And wolde her corounez wern worthe tho fyve,

If possyble were her mendyng.

Bot my lady of quom Jesu con spryng,

Ho haldez the empyre over uus ful hyghe,
And that dysplesez none of oure gyng,

G

RACIOUS queen !' said then that joy,

kneeling to earth, with covered face, 'Matchless mother, mirthfullest maid, blessed beginner of all our grace!'

Then rose she up, and stood as before,
and spake toward me from that spot :-
'Sir! many find here the prize they seek,
but no usurpers abide herein:

that empress in her empire hath

all the heavens and earth and hell,

her heritage none would oust her from,

for she is queen of courtesy.

HE court of the kingdom of living God

TH

this special virtue hath in it,—

each that entereth therein

J is king or queen of all the realm,

and yet depriveth not another;

nay, each is fain of others' having,

and would wish their crowns five times as great,

could they be of greater worth:

but my Lady of whom Jesu sprang

holdeth her empire high o'er us all,
and none it displeaseth of all our host,
for she is queen of courtesy.

40

O'

F courtaysye, as saycz saynt poule,
Al arn we membrez of Ihesu kryst,
As heved and arme and legg and naule,
Temen to hys body ful true and tryste ;
Ryght so is uch a krysten sawle,

A longande lym to the mayster of myste;
Thenne loke what hate other any gawle,
Is tached other tyghed thy lymmez bytwyste.
Thy heved hacz nauther greme ne gryste,
On arme other fynger thagh thou ber byghe:
So fare we alle wyth luf and lyste,
To kyng and quene by cortaysye.'

ORTAYSYE,' quoth I, I leve,

COR

And charyte grete be yow among,

Bot my speche that yow ne greve,
(Me thynk thou spekez now ful wronge,)
Thy self in heven over hygh thou heve,
To make the quen that wacz so yonge.
What more honour moghte he a-cheve
That hade endured in worlde stronge,

And lyved in penaunce hys lyvez longe,
With bodyly bale hym blysse to byye?
What more worschyp moght ho fonge,