Adoun I fel, when that I saugh the herse, 15 Deed as a stoon, whyl that the swogh me laste; But up I roos, with colour ful diverse, And pitously on hir myn yën caste, And ner the corps I gan to presen faste, And for the soule I shoop me for to preye; 20 I nas but lorn; ther nas no more to seye.
Thus am I slayn, sith that Pite is deed; Allas! that day! that ever hit shulde falle! What maner man dar now holde up his heed? To whom shal any sorwful herte calle? 25 Now Crueltee hath cast to sleen us alle, In ydel hope, folk redelees of peyne-- Sith she is deed--to whom shul we compleyne?
But yet encreseth me this wonder newe, That no wight woot that she is deed, but I; 30 So many men as in hir tyme hir knewe, And yet she dyed not so sodeynly; For I have sought hir ever ful besily Sith first I hadde wit or mannes mynde; But she was deed, er that I coude hir fynde. 35
Aboute hir herse ther stoden lustily, Withouten any wo, as thoughte me, Bountee parfit, wel armed and richely, And fresshe Beautee, Lust, and Iolitee, Assured Maner, Youthe, and Honestee, 40 Wisdom, Estaat, [and] Dreed, and Governaunce, Confedred bothe by bonde and alliaunce.
A compleynt hadde I, writen, in myn hond, For to have put to Pite as a bille, But whan I al this companye ther fond, 45 That rather wolden al my cause spille Than do me help, I held my pleynte stille; For to that folk, withouten any faile, Withoute Pite may no bille availe.
Then leve I al thise virtues, sauf Pite, 50 Keping the corps, as ye have herd me seyn, Confedred alle by bonde of Crueltee, And been assented that I shal be sleyn. And I have put my compleynt up ageyn; For to my foos my bille I dar not shewe, 55 Theffect of which seith thus, in wordes fewe:--
¶ 'Humblest of herte, hyest of reverence, Benigne flour, coroune of vertues alle, Sheweth unto your rial excellence Your servaunt, if I durste me so calle, 60 His mortal harm, in which he is y-falle, And noght al only for his evel fare, But for your renoun, as he shal declare.
Hit stondeth thus: your contraire, Crueltee, Allyed is ageynst your regalye 65 Under colour of womanly Beautee, For men [ne] shuld not knowe hir tirannye, With Bountee, Gentilesse, and Curtesye, And hath depryved you now of your place That hight "Beautee, apertenant to Grace." 70