If it really be so great a
felicity, and if it be a boon thus generally dispensed to the most
insignificant beings, why is he alone cut off from its enjoyments?
Oft would I think, O Lord, what may this be,
That love is of such noble myght and kynde?
Loving his folke, and such prosperitee
Is it of him, as we in books do find:
May he oure hertes setten* and unbynd:
Hath he upon our hertes such maistrye?
Or is all this but feynit fantasye?
For giff he be of so grete excellence,
That he of every wight hath care and charge,
What have I gilt*(2) to him, or done offense,
That I am thral'd, and birdis go at large?
* Setten, incline.
*(2) Gilt, what injury have I done, etc.
In the midst of his musing, as he casts his eye downward, he beholds
"the fairest and the freshest young floure" that ever he had seen.
It is the lovely Lady Jane, walking in the garden to enjoy the
beauty of that "fresh May morrowe." Breaking thus suddenly upon his
sight, in the moment of loneliness and excited susceptibility, she
at once captivates the fancy of the romantic prince, and becomes the
object of his wandering wishes, the sovereign of his ideal world.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25