Page:The Book of the Duke of True Lovers - 1908.djvu/42



And her regard that doth all pain erase,

Bend pitying on me and not refuse

Her tender eyes; I ask no other grace.

Thanks be to thee, who mad'st me her to choose.

Ah, God of Love, ere that I run my race,

Vouchsafe I may alone content her, whose

I am always, in good and evil case.

Thanks be to thee, who mad'st me her to choose.

In such wise did I commune with myself, and as yet I felt not the fierce onset of the ardent desire which assails lovers, and makes them to burn, to grow pale, to pine away, and to fret. This was not yet come. Thus I only bethought me at the time to consider how I might be blithe and gay, and possess a very fine equipment and fair raiment, and give away very freely and without stint, and behave so honourably that in all things I might everywhere be praised of gentlefolk in such sort that my lady might regard me with favour on account of my well-doing. Thus I desired to perfect my conduct, and thereafter to abandon the childish ways which until then had made me wayward, and to take heed that thoughtlessness did not overtake me, and to learn how to have a care for that which is worthy.