Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 3.pdf/29

Rh

Is clear when one doth nobly make

An offer for politeness’ sake.

What more than that could mortal do?

But we, sir trickster, ask of you

Wherefore his words in plainest sense

You take not, free of all pretence?

To understand his words awry

Convicts you of stupidity.

Or else perchance you deem it fit

To play the part of foolish wit.

To you the Rose he offered not,

And indecorous ’twere, we wot,

For you to ask him such a thing,

Or snatch it, he not offering.

Straightly we ask with what intent

Your offering unto him was sent;

Was not your end, as we suppose,

To cozen him, and steal the Rose?

With treachery vile and falseness you

Profess to him that you will do

Some service, though in truth his foe

You prove. Ne’er yet in book, we trow,

Was writ a crime more wholly curst.

Therefore, although your heart should burst

With grief, this precinct must you flee,

Wherefrom we drove you formerly.

The devil ’twas that brought you back,

For scarce can you remembrance lack

How you from out this place were driven;

Be off, and seek another heaven.

Small sense displayed that guardian who

Chose to admit a fool like you,