For any bodely lust
To Ulixes her make,
And neuer wold him forsake:
Of Marcus Marcellus
A proces I could tell vs;
And of Anteocus;
And of Josephus
De Antiquitatibus;
And of Mardocheus,
And of great Assuerus, 740
And of Vesca his queene,
Whom he forsoke with teene,
And of Hester his other wyfe,
With whom he ledd a plesaunt life;
Of kyng Alexander;
And of kyng Euander;
And of Porcena the great,
That made the Romayns to sweat:[406]
Though I haue enrold
A thousand new and old 750
Of these historious tales,
To fyll bougets and males
With bokes that I haue red,
Yet I am nothyng sped,
And can but lytell skyll
Of Ouyd or Virgyll,
Or of Plutharke,
Or[407] Frauncys Petrarke,
Alcheus or Sapho,
Or such other poetes mo, 760
As Linus and Homerus,
Euphorion and Theocritus,
Anacreon and Arion,
Sophocles and Philemon,
Pyndarus and Symonides,[408]
Philistion[409] and Phorocides;
These poetes of auncyente,
They ar to diffuse for me:
For, as I tofore haue sayd,
I am but a yong mayd, 770
And cannot in effect
My style as yet direct
With Englysh wordes elect:[410]
Our naturall tong is rude,
And hard to be enneude
With pullysshed termes lusty;
Our language is so rusty,
So cankered, and so full
Of frowardes, and so dull,
That if I wolde apply 780
To wryte ornatly,[411]
I wot not where to fynd
Termes to serue my mynde.
Gowers Englysh is olde,
And of no value told;[412]
His mater is worth gold,
And worthy to be enrold.
In Chauser I am sped,
His tales I haue red:
His mater is delectable, 790
Solacious, and commendable;
His Englysh well alowed,
So as it is enprowed,
For as it is enployd,
There is no Englysh voyd,
At those dayes moch commended,
And now men wold haue amended
His Englysh, whereat they barke,
And mar all they warke:
Chaucer, that famus clerke, 800
His termes were not darke,
But plesaunt, easy, and playne;
No[413] worde he wrote in vayne.
Also Johnn Lydgate
Wryteth after an hyer rate;
It is dyffuse to fynde
The sentence of his mynde,
Yet wryteth he in his kynd,
No man that can amend
Those maters that he hath pende; 810
Yet some men fynde a faute,
And say he wryteth to haute.
Wherfore hold me excused
If I haue not well perused
Myne Englyssh halfe abused;
Though it be refused,
In worth I shall it take,
And fewer wordes make.
But, for my sparowes sake,
Yet as a woman may, 820
My wyt I shall assay
An epytaphe to wryght
In Latyne playne and lyght,
Wherof the elegy
Foloweth by and by:
Flos volucrum[414] formose, vale!
Philippe, sub isto
Marmore jam recubas,
Qui mihi carus eras.
Semper erunt nitido 830
Radiantia sidera cœlo;
Impressusque meo
Pectore semper eris.
Per me laurigerum
Britonum Skeltonida vatem
Hæc cecinisse licet
Ficta sub imagine texta.
Cujus eras[415] volucris,
Præstanti corpore virgo:
Candida Nais erat, 840
Formosior ista Joanna est;
Docta Corinna fuit,
Sed magis ista sapit.
Bien men souient.
THE COMMENDACIONS.
Beati im ma cu la ti in via,
O gloriosa fœmina!
Now myne hole imaginacion
And studyous medytacion
Is to take this commendacyon
In this consyderacion; 850
And