And she began a roundell lustely,

That" Suse le foyle, devers moy," men call,
"Siene et mon joly couer est endormy,"
And than the company answered all
With voices sweet entuned, and so small,
That me thought it the sweetest melody
That ever I heard in my life soothly.

And thus they came, dauncing and singing,
Into the middes of the mede echone,
Before the herber where I was sitting,
And, God wot, me thought I was wel bigone,
For than I might avise hem one by one,
Who fairest was, who coud best dance and sing,
Or who most womanly was in all thing.

They had not daunced but a little throw,
When that I hearde ferre off sodainly,
So great a noise of thundering trumpes blow,
As though it should have departed the skie;
And after that within a while I sie

From the same grove where the ladies came out,

Of men of armes comming such a rout,

As all men on earth had been assembled
In that place, wele horsed for the nones,
Stering so fast, that all the earth trembled:
But for to speake of riches, and of stones,
And men and horse, I trow the large wones,
Of Pretir John, ne all his tresory,
Might not unneth have boght the tenth party

Of their array: who so list heare more,

I shall rehearse, so as I can, a lite.
Out of the grove, that I spake of before,
I sie come first of all in their clokes white,
A company, that ware for their delite,
Chapelets fresh of okes seriall,
Newly sprong, and trumpets they were all.

On every trumpe hanging a broad banere
Of fine tartarium were full richely bete;
Every trumpet his lords armes bere
About their neckes with great pearles sete
Collers brode, for cost they would not lete,

As it would seem, for their schochones echone, Were set about with many a precious stone.

Their horse harneis was all white also,
And after them next in one company,
Came kings of armes, and no mo

In clokes of white cloth of gold richly;
Chapelets of greene on their heads on hie,
The crowns that they on their scochones bere,
Were set with pearle, ruby, and saphere,

And eke great diamonds many one,
But all their horse harneis and other geare,
Was in a sute according everichone,

As ye have heard the foresaid trumpets were;
And by seeming they were nothing to lere,
And their guiding they did so manerly,
And after hem came a great company

Of heraudes and pursevauntes eke,
Arraied in clothes of white velvet,
And hardily they were nothing to seke,
How they on them should the harneis set;

And every man had on a chapelet,

Scochones and eke harneis indede,

They had in sute of hem that 'fore hem yede.

Next after hem came in armour bright,
All save their heades, seemely knightes nine,
And every claspe and naile, as to my sight,
Of their harneis were of red golde fine,
With cloth of gold, and furred ermine

Were the rich trappoures of their stedes strong,
Wide and large, that to the ground did hong.

And every bosse of bridle and paitrell
That they had, was worth, as I would wene,
A thousand pound; and on their heades well
Dressed were crownes of laurer grene,

The best made that ever I had sene,
And every knight had after him riding
Three henchemen on him awaiting.

Of which every first on a short tronchoun
His lordes helme bare, so richly dight,
That the worst was worthe the ransoun

Of any king; the second a shield bright
Bare at his backe; the thred bare upright
A mighty spere, full sharpe ground and kene,
And every childe ware of leaves grene

A fresh chapelet upon his haires bright;
And clokes white of fine velvet they ware,
Their steeds trapped and raied right
Without difference as their lordes were,
And after hem on many a fresh corsere,
There came of armed knights such a rout,
That they bespread the large field about.

And all they ware after their degrees,
Chapelets newe made of laurer grene,
Some of the oke, and some of other trees,
Some in their honds bare boughes shene,
Some of laurer, and some of okes keene,
Some of hauthorne, and some of the wood bind,
And many mo which I had not in mind.

And so they came, their horses freshly stering,
With bloody sownes of hir trompes loud;
There sie I many an uncouth disguising

In the array of these knightes proud,

And at the last as evenly as they coud,

They took their places in middes of the mede,

And every knight turned his horses hede

To his fellow, and lightly laid a spere

In the rest; and so justes began

On every part about here and there;

Some brake his spere, some drew down hors and man,
About the field astray the steedes ran;
And to behold their rule and governaunce.
I you ensure it was a great pleasaunce.

And so the justes last an houre and more;
But tho, that crowned were in laurer grene,
Wan the prise; their dints was so sore,
That there was none ayent hem might sustene,

And the justing all was left off clene,
And fro their horse the ninth alight anone,

And so did all the remnant everichone.

And forth they yede togider, twain and twain,
That to behold it was a worthy sight,

Toward the ladies on the greene plain,
That song and daunced as I said now right:
The ladies as soone as they goodly might,

They brake of both the song and dance,

And yede to meet hem with ful glad semblaunce.

And every lady took full womanly

By the hond a knight, and forth they yede
Unto a faire laurer that stood fast by,
With levis lade the boughes of great brede;
And to my dome there never was indede
Man, that had seene halfe so faire a tre;
For underneath there might it well have be

A hundred persons at their owne plesaunce,
Shadowed fro the heat of Phebus bright,
So that they should have felt no grevaunce
Of raine ne haile that hem hurte might,
The savour, eke, rejoice would any wight
That had be sicke or melancolious;
It was so very good and vertuous.

And with great reverence they enclined low

To the tree so soot and faire of hew;

And after that, within a little throw,

They began to sing and daunce of new,

Some song of love, some plaining of untrew,
Environing the tree that stood upright;

And ever yede a lady and a knight.

And at the last I cast mine eye aside,
And was ware of a lusty company
That come roming out of the field wide,
Hond in hond a knight and a lady;
The ladies all in surcotes, that richely
Purfiled were with many a rich stone,
And every knight of green ware mantles on,

Embrouded well so as the surcotes were,
And everich had a chapelet on her hed,
Which did right well upon the shining here,
Made of goodly floures white and red;
The knightes eke that they in honde led,
In sute of hem ware chapelets everichone,
And before hem went minstrels many one,

As harpes, pipes, lutes, and sautry,
Alle in greene; and on their heades bare
Of divers floures made full craftely,
All in a sute goodly chapelets they ware;
And so dauncing into the mede they fare
In mid the which they found a tuft that was
All oversprad with floures in compas.

Whereto they enclined everichone

With great reverence, and that full humbly;
And, at the last, there began, anone,

A lady for to sing right womanly,

A bargeret in praising the daisie;

For as me thought among her notes swete,
She said Si douce est la Margarete."

Than they alle answered her in fere,
So passingly well, and so pleasauntly,
That it was a blisful noise to here,
But I n'ot how it happed, suddainly,
As about noone, the Sunne so fervently
Waxe hote, that the prety tender floures
Had lost the beauty of hir fresh coloures.

Forshronke with heat, the ladies eke to-brent,
That they ne wist where they hem might bestow;
The knightes swelt for lack of shade nie shent,
And after that, within a little throw,

The wind began so sturdily to blow,
That down goeth all the floures everichone,
So that in all the mede there left not one;

Save such as succoured were among the leves
Fro every storme that might hem assaile,
Growing under the hegges and thicke greves;
And after that, there came a storme of haile,
And raine in fere, so that withouten faile,
The ladies ne the knightes n'ade o threed
Drie on them, so dropping was hir weed.

And whan the storm was cleane passed away,
Tho in white that stood under the tree,
They felt nothing of the great affray,
That they in greene without had in ybe
To them they yede for routh and pite,
Them to comfort after their great disease,
So faine they were the helplesse for to ease.