"
For now they heard a voice that sung most harsh,
That shrilled and croaked like piping frog in marsh,
A voice that near and ever nearer drew
Until the lordly singer strode in view.
A noble singer he, both tall and slender,
With locks be-curled and clad in pompous splendour;
His mantle of rich velvet loose did flow,
As if his gorgeous habit he would show;
A jewelled bonnet on his curls he bore,
With nodding feather bravely decked before;
He was a lover very _point de vice_,
And all about him, save his voice, was nice.
Thus loudly sang, with lungs both sound and strong
This worthy knight, Sir Palamon of Tong.
"O must I groan
And make my moan
And live alone alway?
Yea, I must sigh
And droop and die,
If she reply, nay, nay!
"I groan for thee,
I moan for thee,
Alone for thee I pine.
All's ill for me
Until for me
She will for me be mine."
But now, beholding Yolande amid her flowers, herself as sweet and fresh as
they, he made an end of his singing and betook him, straightway, to amorous
looks and deep-fetched sighs together with many supple bendings of
the back, elegant posturings and motitions of slim legs, fannings and
flauntings of be-feathered cap, and the like gallantries; and thereafter
fell to his wooing on this fashion:
"Lady, O lady of lovely ladies most loved! Fair lady of hearts, sweet dame
of tenderness, tender me thine ears, suffer one, hath sighed and suffered
for sake of thee, to sightful sue.
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