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And I can wystell you a fytte,
Syres, in a whylowe ryne:

Ye, syrs, and every daye,

Whan I to scole shall take the waye
Some good mannes gardyn I wyll assaye,
Perys and plommes to plucke.

I can spye a sparowes nest,

I will not go to scole but whan me lest,
For there begynneth a sory fest,

When the mayster sholde lyfte my docke.
But, syrs, whan I was seuen yere of age
I was sent to the worlde to take wage,
And this seuen yere I haue ben his
And kept his commaundement.

page,

Now I wyll wende to the worlde y° worthy emperour.
Hayle lorde of grete honour,

This .vij. yere I have served you in hall & in boure
With all my trewe entent.2

Mundus Now, welcome wanton, my derlynge dere. A newe name I shall gyue the here:

Loue lust lykynge in fere,

These thy names they shall be,
All game and gle and gladnes,
All loue longynge in lewdnes.
This seuen yere forsake all sadnes,
And than come agayne to me.

Lust & Lykynge Aha, now lust and lykynge is my

name.

I am as fresshe as flourys in maye,

I am semely shapen in same,

And proudely apperelde in garmentes gaye :
My lokes ben full louely to a ladyes eye,

And in loue longynge my harte is sore sette:
Myght I fynde a fode that were fayre and fre,

To lye in hell tell domysdaye for loue I wolde not let.
My loue for to wynne

2 Hence it is evident, that the audience was to suppose seven years to elapse during the speaking of this soliloquy. The progress of time is elsewhere sufficiently marked.

All game and gle,

All myrthe and melodye,

All reuell and ryotte,

And of bost wyll I never blynne.

But, syrs, now I am .xix. wynter olde,

I

wys, I waxe wonder bolde:

Now I wyll go to the worlde

A heygher scyence to assaye:
For the worlde wyll me auaunce,
I wyll kepe his gouernaunce,
His plesynge wyll I praye,

For he is a kynge in all substaunce.
All hayle mayster, full of myght,

I haue you serued bothe day and nyght:
Now I comen, as I you behyght.

One and twenty wynter is comen and gone.
Mundus Now welcome, loue lust and lykynge,
For thou hast ben obedyent to my byddynge.
I encreace the in all thynge,

And myghtly I make the a man :
Manhode myghty shall be thy name.
Bere the prest* in euery game,

And wayte well that thou suffre no shame,
Neyther for londe, nor for rente:

Yf ony man wolde wayte the with blame,
Withstonde hym with thy hole entent,
Full sharpely thou bete him to shame
With doughtynesse of dede:

For of one thynge, manhode, I warne the,
I am moost of bounte,

For seuen kynges sewen me

Bothe by daye and nyght.

One of them is the kynge of pryde,

The kynge of enuy doughty in dede,

The kynge of wrathe that boldely wyll abyde,

For mykyll is his myght:

The kynge of couetous is the fourte:
The fyfte kynge he hyght slouthe,
The kynge of glotony hath no Iolyte

2* i. e." Bear thee ready."

There poverte is pyght:

Lechery is the seuenth kynge,

All men in hym have grete delytynge,
Therfore worshyp hym aboue all thynge,
Manhode, with all thy myght.

Manhode Yes, syr kynge, without lesynge
It shall be wrought.

Had I knowynge of the fyrst kynge without lesynge
Well Ioyen I mought.

Mundus The fyrste kynge hyght pryde.

Manhode A, lorde, with hym fayne wolde I byde. Mundus Ye, but woldest thou serve hym truely in every tyde?

Manhode Ye syr and therto my trouthe I plyght:
That I shall truely pryde present

I swere by saint Thomas of kent.3
To serue hym truely is myn entent,
With mayne and all my myght.

Mundus Now, manhode, I wyll araye the newe
In robes ryall ryght of good hewe,

And I praye the pryncypally be trewe,
And here I dubbe the a knyght,
And haunte alwaye to chyualry.

I

gyue the grace, and also beaute, Golde and syluer grete plente,

Of the wronge to make the ryght.

Manhode Gramercy, worlde and emperour,
Gramercy, worlde and gouernoure,

Gramercy, comforte in all coloure,
And now I take my leue: farewell.

Mundus Farewell, manhode, my gentyll knyght:
Farewell my sone, semely in syght.

I gyue the a swerde, and also strength and myght
In batayle boldly to bere the well.

Manhode Now I am dubbed a knyght hende,*
Wonder wyde shall waxe my fame:
To seke adventures now wyll I wende,
To please the worlde in gle and game

3 i. e. St. Thomas à Becket, at Canterbury.
4 Hende. Sax: civil, courteous.

Mundus Lo syrs I am a prynce peryllous yprovyde, I preuyd full peryllous and pethely I pyght: As a lorde in eche londe I am belouyd, Myne eyen do shyne as lantern bryght.

I am a creature comely out of care,

Emperours and kynges they knele to my kne:
Every man is a ferde whan I do on hym stare,
For all mery medell erthe maketh mencyon of me.
Yet all is at my hande werke, both by downe and by
dale,

Both the see and the lande and foules that fly:

And I were ones moued, I tell you in tale,

There durst no** sterre stere that stondeth in the sky, For I am lorde and leder, so that in londe

All boweth to my byddynge bonerly aboute.

Who y' styreth wt ony stryfe or wayteth me with

wronge,

I shall myghtly make hym to stamer and stowpe:
For I am rychest in myne araye,

I have knyghtes and Toures,
I have ladyes bryghtest in bourys.
Now wyll I fare on these flourys:
Lordynges, have good daye.

Manhode Peas, now peas, ye felowes all aboute:
Peas now, and herken to my sawes,

For I am lorde bothe stalworthy and stowte,

All londes are ledde by my lawes.

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Baron was there never borne that so well hym bare,
A better, ne a bolde, nor a bryghter of ble,"

For I have myght and mayne over countrees fare,
And manhode myghty am I named in every countre.
For Salerne, and samers, and ynde the loys,
Caleys, kente, and cornwayle I have conquered clene,
Pycardye, and Pountes, and gentyll artoys,

Florence, Flaunders, and Fraunce, and also Gascoyne.
All I have conquered as a knyght:

There is no emperour so kene,

4* do, in the original.

* See Note 37, to the Pinner of Wakefield, Vol. III.

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For lyues and lymmes I lene,
So mykyll is my myght.

For I have boldely blode full pyteously dyspylde: There many hath lefte fyngers, and fete, both heed and face.

I have done harme on hedes, and knyghtes have I kyld,

And many a lady for my loue hath sayd alas.

Brygaunt Ermys? I have beten to backe and to bonys, And beten also many a grome to grounde:

Brestplates I have beten, as Steuen was w stonys,
So fell a fyghter in a felde was there never yfounde.
To me no man is makyde,

For manhode myghty that is my name.
Many a lorde have I do lame:
Wonder wyde walketh my fame,

And many a kynges crowne have I crakyd.
I am worthy and wyght, wytty and wyse:
I am ryall arayde to reuen vnder the ryse,
I am proudely aparelde in purpure and byse,
As golde I glyster in gere:

I am styffe, stronge, stalworthe, and stoute,

I am the ryallest redely that renneth in this route, There is no knyght so grysly that I drede nor dout, For I am so doughtly dyght ther may no dint me dere, And ye kynge of pryde full prest wt all his proude

presens,

And ye kynge of lechery louely his letters hath me sent,

And the kynge of wrathe full wordely wt all his entent, They wyll me mayntayne w mayne and all theyr

myght:

The kynge of couetous, and the kynge of glotony,
The kynge of slouthe, and the kynge of enuy,
All those sende me theyr leuery.

Where is now so worthy a wyght?

Ye, as a wyght wytty,

Tene, Sax. grieve.

7 i. e. harness or armour.

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