Balade to Edward, Duke of York

Go, litil pamfilet, and streight thee dresse
Vnto the noble rootid gentillesse
Of the myghty prince of famous honour,
My gracious lord of York, to whos noblesse
Me recommande with hertes humblesse,
As he þat haue his grace and his fauour
Fownden alway, for which I am dettour
For him to preye, and so shal my symplesse
Hertily do vnto my dethes hour.

Remembre his worthynesse, I charge thee,
How ones at London desired he
Of me, þat am his seruant and shal ay,
To haue of my balades swich plentee
As ther weren remeynynge vnto me.
And for nat wole I to his wil seyn nay
But fulfille it as ferfoorth as I may,
Be thow an owtere of my nycetee
For my good lordes lust and game and play.

My lord byseeke eek in humble maneere
That he nat souffre thee for to appeere
In th'onurable sighte or the presence
Of the noble princesse and lady deere,
My gracious lady, my good lordes feere.
The mirour of wommanly excellence.
Thy cheere is naght ne haast noon eloquence
To moustre thee before hir yen cleere.
For myn honour were holsum thyn absence.

Yit ful fayn wolde I haue a messageer
To recommande me with herte enteer
To hir benigne and humble wommanhede,
And at the tyme haue I noon othir heer
But thee, and smal am I for thee the neer.
And if thow do it nat, than shal þat dede
Be left, and þat nat kepte I, out of drede.
My lord, nat I, shal haue of thee poweer.
Axe him licence, vpon him crie and grede.

Whan þat thow hast thus doon, than aftirward
Byseeche thow þat worthy prince Edward
that he thee leye apart, for what may tyde,
Lest thee beholde my maistir Picard.
I warne thee þat it shal be ful hard
For thee and me to halte on any syde
But he espie vs. Yit no force, abyde
Let him looke on, his herte is to me ward
So freendly þat our shame wole he hyde.

If þat I in my wrytynge foleye
As I do ofte—I can it nat withseye—
Meetrynge amis or speke vnfittyngly,
Or nat by iust peys my sentences weye,
And nat to the ordre of endytyng obeye,
And my colours sette ofte sythe awry,
With al myn herte wole I buxumly
It to amende and to correcte him preye,
For vndir his correcioun stande Y.

Thow foul book, vnto my lord seye also
that pryde is vnto me so greet a fo
that the spectacle forbedith he me
And hath ydoon of tyme yore ago.
And for my sighte blyue hastith me fro
And lakkith þat þat sholde his confort be,
No wondir thogh thow haue no beautee.
Out vpon pryde, causere of my wo.
My sighte is hurt thurgh hir aduersitee.

Now ende I thus. The holy trinitee
And our lady, the blissid mayden free,
My lord and lady haue in gouernance
And grante hem ioie and hy prosperitee,
Nat to endur oonly two yeer or three
But a thousand. And if any plesance
Happe mighte, on my poore souffissance,
To his prowesse and hir benignitee,
My lyues ioie it were and sustenance.Cest tout.
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