The tryall of true Love, to you I will recite,
Betweene a faire young Lady, and a coutteous Knight.
To the tune of, Daintie come thou to me.
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DEare Love regard my griefe,
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doe not my Suit disdaine,
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O yeeld me some reliefe,
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that am with sorrow slaine:
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These long seven yeares and more,
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have I still loved thee,
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Doe thou my joyes restore,
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faire Lady pittie me.
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Pittie my grievous paine
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long suffered for thy sake,
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Doe not his Suit disdaine,
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that no time rest can take:
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These long seven yeares and more,
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have I still loved thee,
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Doe thou my joyes restore,
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faire Lady pittie me:
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How should I pitty thee,
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this Lady then reply'd
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Thou art no match for m[e]
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thy Suit must be deny['d]
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I am of Noble blood,
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thou but of meane degree
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It stands not for my good,
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fondly to match with thee.
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This answer had he oft
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which cut his heart so deepe
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That on his Bed full oft,
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would he lye down and weepe
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With teares he did lament
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his froward Destinie,
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With sigh[s] yet would he say,
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Faire Lady pittie me
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While I live I must love,
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so Fancy urgeth me,
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My mind cannot remov[e]
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such is my constancie.
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My mind is Noble bent,
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though I of low degree,
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Sweete Lady give consent,
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to love and pittie me,
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The Lady hearing now,
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the moane that he did make,
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Did of his Suit allow
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and thus to him bespake:
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Sir Knight mourne thou no more,
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my Faith I plight to thee
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May this thy joyes restore,
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thou hast thy wish of me.
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But first, sweete Love, quoth she,
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what shift then wilt thou make,
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With speede to marry me,
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and thy delight to take?
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It were a bargaine bad,
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to get a wanton Wife,
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And lose with sorrow great
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thy sweete desired Life.
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If that my Father knew
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the love I beare to thee,
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We both the same should rue,
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therefore be rul'd by me
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When my Father is in bed,
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and all his waiting men
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Through the Window [sill I get]
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looke that you me[et me then.]
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